its opportunities.

My owners' letter had left it to me, as I have said before, to do
my best for the ship, according to my own judgment. But it
contained also a postscript worded somewhat as follows:

"Without meaning to interfere with your liberty of action we are
writing by the outgoing mail to some of our business friends there
who may be of assistance to you. We desire you particularly to
call on Mr. Jacobus, a prominent merchant and charterer. Should
you hit it off with him he may be able to put you in the way of
profitable employment for the ship."

Hit it off! Here was the prominent creature absolutely on board
asking for the favour of a cup of coffee! And life not being a
fairy-tale the improbability of the event almost shocked me. Had I
discovered an enchanted nook of the earth where wealthy merchants
rush fasting on board ships before they are fairly moored? Was
this white magic or merely some black trick of trade? I came in
the end (while making the bow of my tie) to suspect that perhaps I
did not get the name right. I had been thinking of the prominent
Mr. Jacobus pretty frequently during the passage and my hearing
might have been deceived by some remote similarity of sound. . .
The steward might have said Antrobus--or maybe Jackson.

But coming out of my stateroom with an interrogative "Mr. Jacobus?"
I was met by a quiet "Yes," uttered with a gentle smile. The "yes"
was rather perfunctory. He did not seem to make much of the fact
that he was Mr. Jacobus. I took stock of a big, pale face, hair
thin on the top, whiskers also thin, of a faded nondescript colour,