By the aid of this enterprising person, Mr. Markham was able to clothe himself without borrowing from any of the passengers. But about the payment for his purchases there seemed likely to be some difficulty. The bank order for four hundred pounds was once again in the possession of Mr. Markham, but it was payable in England, and how then could he effect the transfer of the few pounds he owed the American speculator, when he was to leave the vessel at St. Helena? There was no agency of the bank at this island, though there was one at the Cape, and thus the question of payment became somewhat difficult to solve. “Do you want to leave the craft at St. Helena, mister?” asked the American, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “I do,” said Mr. Markham. “I must leave at the island and take the first ship to England.” “It's the awkwardest place on God's footstool, this St. Helena, isn't it?” said the American. “I don't see that it is; why do you say so?” “Only that I don't see why you want so partickler to land thar, mister. Maybe you'll change yer mind, eh?” “I have said that I must part from this ship there,” exclaimed Mr. Markham almost impatiently. “I must get this order reduced to money somehow.” “Wal, I reckon that's about the point, mister.” said the speculator. “But you see if you want to fly it as you say, you'll not breeze about that it's needful for you to cut the craft before you come to the Cape. I'd half a mind to try and trade with you for that bit of paper ten minutes ago, but I reckon that's not what's the matter with me now. No, _sir_; if you want to get rid of that paper without much trouble, just you give out that you don't care if you do go on to the Cape; maybe a nibble will come from that.” “I don't know what you mean, my good fellow,” said Markham; “but I can only repeat that I will not go on to the Cape. I shall get the money somehow and pay you before I leave, for surely the order is as good as money to any one living in the midst of civilisation. I don't suppose a savage would understand it, but I can't see what objection any one in business could make to receiving it at its full value.” The American screwed up his mouth in a peculiar fashion, and smiled in a still more peculiar fashion. He rather fancied he had a small piece of tobacco in his waistcoat pocket, nor did the result of a search show that he was mistaken; he extracted the succulent morsel and put it into his mouth. Then he winked at Mr. Markham, put his hands in his pockets, and walked slowly away without a word. Markham looked after him with a puzzled expression. He did not know what the man meant to convey by his nods and his becks and his wreathed smiles. But just at this moment Mr. Harwood came up; he had of course previously made the acquaintance of Markham. “I suppose we shall soon be losing you?” said Harwood, offering him a cigar. “You said, I think, that you would be leaving us at St. Helena?”