announced that "Chinamen and Soldiers in uniform are not admitted." Sarkies obtained a suitable drink; he chose that pink compound of rum, mint, crushed ice, and peach brandy which rejoices in the name of maiden's blush, and bore it away with him to the billiard-room upstairs. The tables were full, and Sarkies, making himself comfortable on a bench, waited for his turn to come. Beside him sat a neat-looking man, clean-shaven, with red hair and small black bead eyes. His blue coat with brass anchor buttons explained his calling. His ducks were spotlessly white, and the pipe-clay on his canvas shoes evidently just dry. "May I trouble you for a light?" said the man. "Certainly;" and Sarkies handed him a small plated box containing wax vestas. The stranger lit a cheroot, and, returning the box, inquired, "Come here often?" "Ya'as--sometimes," and Sarkies took a pull at his drink. "This is about the first time I've been here; my ship has only just come in. Pleasant place this." And the stranger watched the end of his cheroot keenly to see that it was burning properly. "Have a game after this?" asked Sarkies, and the stranger agreed. They were able to get a table, and a small bet was made on the game, which Sarkies, much to his delight, won. The stranger paid up, and as he did so he remarked: "You play a very good game--may I ask your name?" "Oh, Sarkies--I'm in Apcoon Brothers." "The great shipping agents--delighted to meet you--allow me to present my card to you," and Mr. Sarkies's new acquaintance drew a card from a new leather case and handed it to him. Sarkies regretted within himself that he had not brought a card-case with him, and determined in future never to be without one. He bowed politely over the outstretched hand of his companion, and took the card between his fingers; as he glanced at it an expression of surprise came over his face. "Captain S. Lamport, Merchant Marine," he said aloud. "This is strange." A shadow passed over his companion's face. "I don't see anything strange in my name," he said a little sternly. Sarkies looked at him; there was an ugly scowl on his face, and the Armenian felt a little alarmed. "Not that, captain," he said; "only I know a person named Lamport--and she is--I mean she is a widow, and is going to be married." The stranger's brow cleared. "Let us sit down for a bit," he said. "I am much interested--and, sir, may I ask are you the happy man?" "Oh, no--the padre of our--I mean the Methodist church--a Mr. Galbraith." "Um! I see," mused Captain Lamport; "lots of money--eh!" "I expect so." And then with a knowing smile Sarkies added, "The padre has the church funds, y'know." "He! he!" laughed the captain, and poked Sarkies in the ribs; "sly dog--you're a deep one, you are."