I was accompanied by my fidus Achates, Albert Roberts. The morning after
our arrival, by chance I came across a printed line which advertised a room
and board for two "single gentlemen," with the curious affix for those
times, "references will be given and required." This latter caught me.
When I rang the visitors' bell of a pretty dwelling upon one of the nearby
streets a distinguished gentleman in uniform came to the door, and,
acquainted with my business, he said, "Ah, that is an affair of my wife,"
and invited me within.

He was obviously English. Presently there appeared a beautiful lady,
likewise English and as obviously a gentlewoman, and an hour later my
friend Roberts and I moved in. The incident proved in many ways fateful.
The military gentleman proved to be Doctor Scott, the post surgeon. He
was, when we came to know him, the most interesting of men, a son of that
Captain Scott who commanded Byron's flagship at Missolonghi in 1823; had
as a lad attended the poet and he in his last illness and been in at the
death, seeing the club foot when the body was prepared for burial. His
wife was adorable. There were two girls and two boys. To make a long story
short, Albert Roberts married one of the daughters, his brother the other;
the lads growing up to be successful and distinguished men--one a naval
admiral, the other a railway president. When, just after the war, I was
going abroad, Mrs. Scott said: "I have a brother living in London to whom
I will be glad to give you a letter."



II


Upon the deck of the steamer bound from New York to London direct, as