smartest handling of canvas it has ever been given me to behold. As she
came on the great, silken, light sails fluttered, shrank and disappeared
as if by magic; her headway stopped and the screw ceased its throbbing.
She was just like a grand, white bird folding its wings and going to
sleep. But even before she had ceased to move a boat was overboard and
four men were at the sweeps, pulling for shore. A few minutes later I was
passing in front of Simpson & Co., the big ship-chandlers who were the
_Chandernagore's_ agents, when one of the clerks came out and ran towards
me.

"Won't you come in?" he asked, excitedly. "There is the skipper of that
white yacht that just came in who wants a doctor at once, and at any
cost. We supplied that boat after she left dry-dock here, some weeks ago.
She belongs to regular swells, awfully rich people."

"Is the man hurt or ill?" I asked.

"No, he's all right. There is sickness at a little outport, diphtheria, I
hear, and they want a man at once. Money's no object."

It really seemed as if a bit of luck might be coming my way, at last.
Indeed I wanted badly to see your dear face again, and that silver hair
I think so beautiful, but here was a prospect of sailing away on that
stunning little ship and of earning some badly needed money, so that I
felt like whooping with joy. I leaped through the open door and saw a
very gold-laced man who was talking very fast to the head of the firm.

"Here's just the man you want," said the latter. "He's a first-rate young
chap who will go anywhere and do anything. His skipper of the
_Chandernagore_ swears by him. I can send for him, if you like."