'But is not such sailing like running to and fro between wickets when there's nobody bowling?' said Mr. Fairbanks, placing a decanter of old Madeira and a box of cigars on the table. Mr. Vanderholt brimmed a deep-hearted wineglass, and lighted a cigar, saying betwixt the puffs: 'If there is no good in the pursuit of health, you are right.' 'Well,' said Mr. Fairbanks, 'for my part I never could contemplate a voyage of any sort without associating it with a port and business.' 'Thank the North Star,' said the gentleman of Dutch extraction, 'with me that time has passed!' 'But to think of the Equator as a port of call!' exclaimed Mr. Fairbanks; and they both began to laugh. The term 'port of call' set them conversing about trade, how matters went in the City. Mr. Vanderholt talked fluently on all affairs connected with shipping. After enjoying his cigar and his chat, he re-entered his carriage, and was driven away. Next morning, at about eleven o'clock, he was in his study, writing some letters. His daughter sat with him, reading a newspaper. A man-servant opened the door, and said that a seafaring gentleman was in the 'all, and had called by request. On a silver salver lay Mr. Fairbanks' card, and Mr. Vanderholt, after glancing at the card, told the footman to show Captain Glew in. There entered soon, with a quick, resolved, quarter-deck stride, a short but powerfully-built man, shell-backed by ocean duties, with a face that might have been cast in light bronze, that might have served as a ship's figure-head in that metal, so roasted had it been in its day, so hard set was it, as though fresh from the pickle of the harness-cask. The flesh of the countenance had that sort of tension which does not admit of much, or perhaps any, play of emotion. The man might expel a laugh from his throat, but was he physically equal to a smile? He held a round hat, and was soberly attired in blue cloth. He looked swiftly and lightly around him, but seemed unmoved by the splendour of the apartment. He sent a keen, gray, seawardly glance at Miss Vanderholt, and fastened his gaze with an expression of attention upon her father. Miss Vanderholt viewed him with curiosity and disappointment. 'Captain Glew?' said Mr. Vanderholt. 'That's my name, sir,' answered the captain, in a voice as decisive as his walk and air. 'I was asked to call upon you by Mr. Fairbanks.' 'Right. Sit down. I had a good many years of it myself, but did not reach the quarter-deck,' said Mr. Vanderholt. 'My end was plumb with the fore-top.' The captain seated himself, but did not smile, nor did he look as if he wanted to. 'Many years at sea, Captain Glew?' 'Thirty, sir.' 'Did you run away, as I did, from home?' 'No. I was put apprentice by my father, who had charge of a Bethel, and was a man of education.' 'Did Mr. Fairbanks explain what I wanted to see you about?' 'Yes, sir. I believe you'll find me a suitable man. I confess I'd like the job. I know the _Mowbray_.'