uint at my
certificate just before, because clearly till he did so he was not sure
of my christian name. "Now then come round in front of the desk,
Charles," says he in a loud voice.

"Charles! At first, I declare to you, it didn't seem possible that he
was addressing himself to me. I even looked round for that Charles but
there was nobody behind me except the thin-necked chap still hard at his
writing, and the other three Shipping Masters who were changing their
coats and reaching for their hats, making ready to go home. It was the
industrious thin-necked man who without laying down his pen lifted with
his left hand a flap near his desk and said kindly:

"Pass this way."

I walked through in a trance, faced Mr. Powell, from whom I learned that
we were bound to Port Elizabeth first, and signed my name on the Articles
of the ship _Ferndale_ as second mate--the voyage not to exceed two
years.

"You won't fail to join--eh?" says the captain anxiously. "It would
cause no end of trouble and expense if you did. You've got a good six
hours to get your gear together, and then you'll have time to snatch a
sleep on board before the crew joins in the morning."

"It was easy enough for him to talk of getting ready in six hours for a
voyage that was not to exceed two years. He hadn't to do that trick
himself, and with his sea-chest locked up in an outhouse the key of which
had been mislaid for a week as I remembered. But neither was I much
concerned. The idea that I was absolutely going to sea at six o'clock
next morning hadn't got quite into my head yet. It had been too sudden.

"Mr. Powell, slipping the Articles into a long envelope, spoke up with a
sort of cold half-laugh without looking at either of us.

"Mind you don't disgrace the name, Charles."

"And the skipper chimes in very kindly:

"He'll do well enough I dare say. I'll look after him a bit."

"Upon this he grabs the Articles, says something about trying to run in
for a minute to see that poor devil in the hospital, and off he goes with
his heavy swinging step after telling me sternly: "Don't you go like that
poor fellow and get yourself run over by a cart as if you hadn't either
eyes or ears."

"Mr. Powell," says I timidly (there was by then only the thin-necked man
left in the office with us and he was already by the door, standing on
one leg to turn the bottom of his trousers up before going away). "Mr.
Powell," says I, "I believe the Captain