out scheme for the ship's employment in the East and about the
China Seas for the next two years. I spent the day at that task
and felt somewhat more at peace when it was done.

Their reply came in due course. They were greatly struck with my
project; but considering that, notwithstanding the unfortunate
difficulty with the bags (which they trusted I would know how to
guard against in the future), the voyage showed a very fair profit,
they thought it would be better to keep the ship in the sugar
trade--at least for the present.

I turned over the page and read on:

"We have had a letter from our good friend Mr. Jacobus. We are
pleased to see how well you have hit it off with him; for, not to
speak of his assistance in the unfortunate matter of the bags, he
writes us that should you, by using all possible dispatch, manage
to bring the ship back early in the season he would be able to give
us a good rate of freight. We have no doubt that your best
endeavours . . . etc. . . etc."

I dropped the letter and sat motionless for a long time. Then I
wrote my answer (it was a short one) and went ashore myself to post
it. But I passed one letter-box, then another, and in the end
found myself going up Collins Street with the letter still in my
pocket--against my heart. Collins Street at four o'clock in the
afternoon is not exactly a desert solitude; but I had never felt
more isolated from the rest of mankind as when I walked that day
its crowded pavement, battling desperately with my thoughts and
feeling already vanquished.