“Good morning, Mr.--h’m--Mr. Johnson,” said old Mr. Wright. “As we told you, sir, we have, as a necessary preliminary to the inquiry, requested Professor Lieblein to step in and inspect--h’m--the personal marks of which you spoke. Professor Lieblein, of Bonn, is a great authority on these matters--author of ‘Die Tattuirung,’ a very learned work, I am told.” Thus introduced, the Professor bowed. “Glad to meet you, sir,” said the sailor-man gruffly, “or any gentleman as really knows what’s what.” “You have been a great traveller, sir?” said the learned Professor, whose Teutonic accent it is superfluous to reproduce. “You have in many lands travelled? So!” “Yes, sir; I have seen the world.” “And you are much tattooed: it is to me very interesting. You have by many races been decorated?” “Most niggers have had a turn at me, sir!” “How happy you are to have had such experiences! Now, the Burmese--ah! have you any little Burmese marks?” “Yes, sir; from the elbow to the shoulder,” replied the seafaring man. “Saving your presence, I’ll strip to the buff.” “The buff! What is that? Oh, thank you, sir,” this was in reply to young Mr. Wright “The naked body! why, buff! ‘Buff,’ the abstract word, the actual stuff, the very _wesen_ of man unclothed. ‘Buffer,’ the concrete man, in the ‘buff,’ in the flesh; it is _sehr intéressant_.” While the learned Professor muttered these metaphysical and philological reflections, the seaman was stripping himself to the waist. “That’s the Burmese style, sir,” he said, pointing to his shoulders and upper arm. These limbs were tattooed in a beautiful soft blue; the pattern was a series of diminishing squares, from which long narrow triangles ran down to the elbow-joints. “_Sehr schôn, sehr schôn_,” exclaimed the delighted Professor. “It is very _hubsch_, very pretty, very well. We cannot now decorate, we Germans. Ach, it is mournful!” and he sighed. “And now, sir, have you to show me any _moko_? A little _moko_ would be very instructive.” “Moko? Rather! The Maori pattern, you mean; the New Zealand dodge? Just look between my shoulders,” and the seaman turned a broad bare back, whereon were designs of curious involuted spirals. “That is right, that is right,” whispered the Professor. “_Moko, schlange_, serpent-marks, so they call it in their tongue. Better _moko_, on an European man, have I never seen. You observe,” he remarked to the elder Mr. Wright, waving his hand as he followed the tattooed lines--“you observe the serpentine curves? Very beautiful.” “Extremely interesting,” said Mr. Wright, who, being no anthropologist, seemed nervous and uncomfortable. “Corresponds, too, with the marks in the picture,” he added, comparing the sketch of the original Shields with the body of the claimant. “Are you satisfied now, governor?” asked the sailor. “One little moment. Have you on the Red Sea coast been? Have you been at Suakim? Have you any Arab markings?”