Upon that afternoon the _Dunrobin Castle_ from Cape Town steamed into Plymouth Harbour, and amongst the passengers one man stepped from the tender on to the quay and stood there absolutely alone. No one had gone out to the ship to meet him; no one came forward now on the quay-side, and it was evident from his indifference to the bystanders that he expected no one. The more careless of these would have accounted him a complete stranger to the locality, the more observant an absentee who had just returned, for while his looks expressed isolation, one significant gesture proved familiarity with the environments. As his eyes travelled up the tiers of houses and glanced along towards the Hoe, they paused now and again and rested upon any prominent object as though upon a remembered landmark, and each such recognition he emphasised with a nod of the head. He turned his back towards the town, directing his glance in a circle. The afternoon, although toning to dusk, was kept bright by the scouring of a keen wind, and he noted the guard-ship on his right at its old moorings, the funnels rising like solid yellow columns from within a stockade of masts; thence he looked across the water to the yellowing woods of Mount Edgcumbe, watched for a moment or so the brown sails of the fishing-smacks dancing a _chassez-croisez_ in the Sound, and turned back to face the hill-side. A fellow-passenger, hustled past him by half a dozen importunate children, extricated a hand to wave, and shouted a cheery 'See you in town, Drake.' Drake roused himself with a start and took a step in the same direction; he was confronted by a man in a Norfolk jacket and tweed knickerbockers, who, standing by, had caught the name. 'Captain Stephen Drake?' 'Yes. Why?' The man mopped a perspiring face. 'I was afraid I had missed you. I should have gone out on the tender, only I was late. Can you spare me a moment? You have time.' 'Certainly,' answered Drake, with a look of inquiry. The man in the knickerbockers led the way along the quay until he came to an angle between an unused derrick and a wall. 'We shall not be disturbed here,' he said, and he drew an oblong note-book and a cedar-wood pencil from his pocket. 'I begin to understand,' said Drake, with a laugh. 'You can have no objection?' There was the suavity of the dentist who holds the forceps behind his back in the tone of the speaker's voice. 'On the contrary, a little notoriety will be helpful to me too.' That word 'too' jarred on the reporter, suggesting a flippancy which he felt to be entirely out of place. The feeling, however, was quickly swallowed up in the satisfaction which he experienced at obtaining so easily a result which had threatened the need of diplomacy. '_O si sic omnes!_' he exclaimed, and made a note of the quotation upon the top of the open leaf.