He had waxed moustaches, and a curious, furtive way of walking and looking about him.

We of the steerage were careless in our dress, but he was always clad in immaculate white linen, with pointed, yellow shoes to match his complexion.

He spoke to no one, but smoked long cheroots all day in the stern of the ship, and studied a greasy pocket-book.

Once I tripped over him in the dark, and he turned on me with a snarl and an oath.

I was short enough with him in return, and he looked as if he could knife me.
'I'll wager that fellow has been a slave-driver in his time,' I told Mr Wardlaw, who said, 'God pity his slaves, then.' And now I come to the incident which made the rest of the voyage pass all too soon for me, and foreshadowed the strange events which were to come.