Hitherto I had always squandered away my money in the most foolish manner. I now got Captain Carr to invest some of it for me, and, retaining a little for pocket-money, with the rest I purchased the best books I could find, and other articles which I thought likely to be useful to me in a three years' voyage. At last the ship was ready again for sea. Tom Knowles and most of the other old hands had joined; for, being wise men, when they had found a good captain they liked to stick by him. We hauled out into the stream; but still, greatly to my disappointment, Newman did not appear. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. BATAVIA AND THE FEEJEE ISLANDS. The pilot was on board, the topsails were loosed, and the order had been given to heave up the anchor, when a boat was seen coming off from the southern shore of the Mersey. A seaman sprung up the ship's side, and a couple of chests were hoisted up after him. I was aloft. I looked down on deck and saw Newman. I found that he had written to the captain, who had reserved a berth for him, but it was still before the mast. He had the promise, he told me, of a mate's berth should a vacancy occur; but he observed, "I am not ambitious. With what I have I am content." He asked no questions as to what I had been doing. It was not his way. He was certainly free from vulgar curiosity; neither did he volunteer to give me any account of himself. I told him one day what I had done with the proceeds of the last voyage. "Ah, you are wiser than I am, Williams," he answered, with a tone of bitterness. "I thought so, or I should not have tried to make you my friend. I have been seeing life, as it is called. I wanted to discover what changes had taken place in the world during my absence--as if the world could ever change. I found it deceitful, vain, and frivolous as before. I have been buying experience. The whole remainder of my possessions lies stowed away in those two chests. The most valuable portions are a few new books for you and I to read and discuss; and this time I have not forgotten a suit of shore going clothes, in case I have to appear again in the character of a gentleman. And now, farewell--a long farewell to England's shores! It may be that I shall never tread them again! Why should I regret it? There are brighter skies and richer lands in another hemisphere."