After dinner he attended me to visit him. “I have known this man many years,” said he. “I have no doubt of his having been unfortunate; his education and manners speak the gentleman: his conduct and industry the honest man. His reserve and dejection have imposed on me a respect for his misfortunes; and to this hour I only know, that his name is Charles, and that he is _a very extraordinary man_; for his fidelity to me, has not lessened his influence with my people; who all love him as their best friend. To-morrow morning, I shall bring his boy on shore to be with him.” “Then he has a son?” observed I. “One of his adoption,” answered he; “and his motives for so doing, will give you his character. I had lost sight of him for some years, having left him in London. In his passage from thence to New York, where, as it appears, he was as poor as when I first saw him, he was a common seaman: one of the crew, a native of New York fell sick and died on the passage, recommending to Charles his aged mother, and his child, _this boy_. He promised to take care of them, and he kept his word; for taking up his abode in the old woman’s miserable hovel, he supported the family by his labour. In this situation, I again met him. The death of the woman, and my offer to take the boy with him, induced him to accept the post of ship steward on board my ship; where he has been several years. You will judge of him as a schoolmaster, when you see George.” “Poor lad!” continued the captain, “he will break his heart; but I will be his friend.” I returned to my patient, but did not allow him to speak; he was told that his George would be with him in the morning, and his hand only was offered to the captain.