He had been looking thoughtfully out for about an hour on this particular night before he came to the conclusion that he knew the right way. But once determined, he entered, and, closing the door softly, he stopped for a minute to pull himself together, rearranging his necktie, pulling down his vest, and carefully fastening the top and bottom buttons, which had a rollicking habit of working themselves clear of their respective holes. His hair, too, required a little attention, being carefully smoothed with his fingers. This done, he moistened his hands, as if about to haul a rope, before going straight up to where his master was seated in front of the fire which the cool spring night made comfortable, who, as he sat there gazing very thoughtfully in between the bars, said: "Well, Tom, what is it?" "Been a-thinking, Sir Gordon--hard." "Well, what about?" "'Bout you, Sir Gordon. It's these here east winds getting into your bones again; as if I might be so bold--" "There, there, man, don't stand hammering and stammering like that! You want to say something. Say it." "'Bout the east wind, Sir Gordon, and whether you wouldn't think it as well to take a trip." "Yes, yes, man, I'm going on one--Mediterranean--in a few days," said the old man dreamily. "Glad to hear it, Sir Gordon; but, if I might make so bold, why not make a longer trip?" "Not safe--yacht not big enough, my man. There, that will do: I want to think." "I mean aboard ship, Sir Gordon. Why shouldn't we go as far as Australia? We've seen a deal of the world, Sir Gordon, but we haven't been there." Tom Porter's master gave him a peculiar look, and then nodded towards the door, when the man made a nautical bow, with a very apologetic smile, and backed out. "Went a bit too nigh the rocks that time. It warn't like me--but, lor! what a man will do when there's a woman in the way!" He had hardly settled himself in his pantry when the bell rang, and he went up, expecting a severe talking to. "Means a wigging!" he said, as he went up slowly, to find Sir Gordon pacing the room. Tom Porter did not know it, but his words had fallen just at that time when his master was pondering upon the possibility of such a trip, and, though he would not have owned to it, his man's words had turned the balance. "Pack up at once," he said. "Long cruise or short, Sir Gordon?" "Long." "Ay, ay, Sir Gordon. Special dispatches, Sir Gordon?" "No; longer cruise than usual, that's all." "He's going! I'd bet ten hundred thousand pounds he's going!" said Tom Porter; "and I'm done for! She was a bit more easy last time we met; and I shall make a fool o' myself--I know I shall!" He stood in the middle of his pantry, turning his right and left hands into a pestle and mortar, and grinding something invisible therein. Then, after a long silence: "Its fate, that's about what it is!" said Tom Porter; "and that's a current that you can't fight agen."