The Portuguese officials begged him not to distress himself.
They gave him a week's grace, and then proposed to sell the brig at auction.

This meant ruin for Morrison; and when Heyst hailed him across the street in his usual courtly tone, the week was nearly out.
Heyst crossed over, and said with a slight bow, and in the manner of a prince addressing another prince on a private occasion: "What an unexpected pleasure.

Would you have any objection to drink something with me in that infamous wine-shop over there?
The sun is really too strong to talk in the street." The haggard Morrison followed obediently into a sombre, cool hovel which he would have distained to enter at any other time.

He was distracted.
He did not know what he was doing.

You could have led him over the edge of a precipice just as easily as into that wine-shop.