It is thus that questions are often met in Belfast with counter-questions. Belfast is a city of business men, and it is not the habit of business men to give away anything, even information, without getting something in return. The counter-question may draw some valuable matter by way of answer from the original questioner. In this case the counter-question was a reasonable one. McMunn, of McMunn Brothers, Limited, was a coal merchant. Lord Dunseverick, though a peer, belonged to the north of Ireland. He understood Belfast. “What I want,” he said, “is to see Mr. Andrew McMunn.” “I’ve business with Andrew McMunn myself,” said the sailor, “and I’m going that way.” “Good. Then we’ll go together.” “My name,” said the sailor, “is Ginty. If you’re intimate with Andrew McMunn you’ll likely have heard of me.” “I haven’t. But that’s no reason why you shouldn’t show me the way.” “It’s no that far,” said Ginty. They walked together, sometimes side by side, sometimes driven apart by a string of carts. “If it had been Jimmy McMunn you wanted to see,” said Ginty, “you might have had further to go. Some says Jimmy’s in the one place, and more is of opinion that he’s in the other. But I’ve no doubt in my own mind about where Andrew will go when his time comes.” “You know him pretty well, then?” “Ay, I do. It would be queer if I didn’t, seeing that I’ve sailed his ships this ten year. Andrew McMunn will go to heaven.” “Ah,” said Lord Dunseverick, “he’s a good man, then?” “I’ll no go so far as to say precisely that,” said Ginty, “but he’s a man who never touches a drop of whisky nor smokes a pipe of tobacco. It’ll be very hard on him if he doesna go to heaven after all he’s missed in this world. But you’ll find out what kind of man he is if you go in through the door forninst you. It’s his office, thon one with the brass plate on the door. My business will keep till you’re done with him.” Lord Dunseverick pushed open one of a pair of swinging doors, and found himself in a narrow passage. On his right was a ground glass window bearing the word “Inquiries.” He tapped at it. For a minute or two there was no response. Lord Dunseverick brushed some of the mud, now partially dry, off his trousers, and lit a fresh cigarette. The ground glass window was opened, and a redhaired clerk looked out. “I want to see Mr. McMunn,” said Lord Dunseverick, “Mr. Andrew McMunn.” The clerk put his head and shoulders out through the window, and surveyed Lord Dunseverick suspiciously. Very well dressed young men, with pale lavender ties and pearl tie-pins--Lord Dunseverick had both--are not often seen in Belfast quay-side offices. “If you want to see Mr. McMunn,” said the clerk, “--and I’m no saying you will, mind that--you’d better take yon cigarette out of your mouth. There’s no smoking allowed here.” Lord Dunseverick took his cigarette out of his mouth, but he did not throw it away. He held it between his fingers.