'She will need time to discharge her cargo?' 'If she is in the Bay,' said he, 'she should be able to sail with you in a fortnight, and that is as quick as gold itself shall let you be in this climate.' I was excited by his praise of the brig, and, standing up, I asked him to accompany me to the waterside, and search the Bay with his sight for her. But he had an engagement, so I stepped forth alone, there still remaining a long evening of daylight. I made my way to the same place I had embarked from that afternoon, and looking at the scene of Bay which glowed like the sky with the evening splendour, stretching out from my feet, and brimming into gold trembling into purple to the white beach abreast, which ran in a curve flashing like light against the lip of the brine, I counted no less than twenty-two ships riding to their anchors: vessels of all rigs and of several nationalities, and, as though heaven were on my side in this time of trial and grief, I saw what I guessed was the vessel I was here to look for. She lay, curiously enough, immediately astern of the whaler--a milk-white figure, slightly swaying on the satin-smooth heave, with wet green gleams trembling along her as she lifted her metal sheathing. I said to a coloured waterman who stood near, pointing to the brig: 'What brig is that, do you know?' He answered immediately, 'De "Albatross," boss!' 'Ha!' 'From Sydney, boss.' 'When did she arrive?' 'Two yastardays, boss.' But it was not wonderful she should have escaped my observation; in going and coming from the whaler I had thought of nothing but what I was to hear and what I had heard; and earlier my sight, often as it wandered to the shipping, never paused to distinguish. I saw no more of my Dutch friend till next morning, when, at eleven o'clock, whilst I was making ready to drive into the town and inquire about the brig 'Albatross,' a servant knocked on the door, and said Mr. Pollak was below with another and wished to see me. I at once descended. His companion was a little man, almost a dwarf; his nose was as long as Punch's, his mouth much like that puppet's, wide and thin, with the look of a smirk in the curl of the lips at either extremity; he wore little slips of grey whiskers; his eyes were deep sunk, grey and kindly, and he blinked them with a nervous fury when he dodged a sort of sea-bow on Mr. Pollak introducing him. He was almost bald, and was perhaps fifty-five years of age, much curved in the back, his shanks slightly arching out. Mr. Pollak called him Captain Christopher Cliffe, and introduced him as master and part-owner of the brig 'Albatross.' 'I know,' said the worthy Dutchman, 'that time is precious to you. I am glad we have found you in. I cannot stay. But I will leave Captain Cliffe behind me to talk with you.' And picking up his hat he nodded and went out. I asked the little man if Mr. Pollak had told him my story. 'Enough,' he answered, 'to make me understand there is reason to hurry.'