“Good morning, Jim,” he said; “you remember me, don't you?” As he spoke I observed, too, that his manner had altered. He who had consorted with the sweepings af the doss-houses now addressed me as a courteous gentleman addresses an inferior--not haughtily or patronizingly, but with a note of conscious superiority and self-respect wholly unfamiliar. Almost it threw me off my guard, but remembering in the nick of time that I was still “Jim”: “Of course I remember you, Cap'n,” I said. “Step inside.” “Thanks,” he replied, and followed me into the little room. I placed for him the arm-chair which our friend the fireman had so recently occupied, but: “I won't sit down,” he said. And now I observed that he was evidently in a condition of repressed excitement. Perhaps he saw the curiosity in my glance, for he suddenly rested both his hands on my shoulders, and: “Yes, I have given up the dope, Jim,” he said---“done with it for ever. There's not a soul in this neighbourhood I can trust, yet if ever a man wanted a pal, I want one to-day. Now, you're square, my lad. I always knew that, in spite of the dope; and if I ask you to do a little thing that means a lot to me, I think you will do it. Am I right?” “If it can be done, I'll do it,” said I. “Then, listen. I'm leaving England in the Patna for Singapore. She sails at noon to-morrow, and passengers go on board at ten o'clock. I've got my ticket, papers in order, but”--he paused impressively, grasping my shoulders hard--“I must get on board to-night.” I stared him in the face. “Why?” I asked. He returned my look with one searching and eager; then: “If I show you the reason,” said he, “and trust you with all my papers, will you go down to the dock--it's no great distance--and ask to see Marryat, the chief officer? Perhaps you've sailed with him?” “No,” I replied guardedly. “I was never in the Patna.” “Never mind. When you give him a letter which I shall write he will make the necessary arrangements for me to occupy my state-room to-night. I knew him well,” he explained, “in--the old days. Will you do it, Jim?” “I'll do it with pleasure,” I answered. “Shake!” said Captain Dan. We shook hands heartily, and: “Now I'll show you the reason,” he added. “Come upstairs.” Turning, he led the way upstairs to his own room, and wondering greatly, I followed him in. Never having been in Captain Dan's apartments I cannot say whether they, like their occupant, had changed for the better. But I found myself in a room surprisingly clean and with a note of culture in its appointments which was even more surprising.