To this end, I excused myself with Mr.Fowler, returned to Honolulu, and passed the remainder of the day hanging vainly round the cool verandahs of the hotel.

It was near nine o'clock at night before I was rewarded.
"That is the gentleman you were asking for," said the clerk.
I beheld a man in tweeds, of an incomparable languor of demeanour, and carrying a cane with genteel effort.

From the name, I had looked to find a sort of Viking and young ruler of the battle and the tempest; and I was the more disappointed, and not a little alarmed, to come face to face with this impracticable type.
"I believe I have the pleasure of addressing Lieutenant Sebright," said I, stepping forward.
"Aw, yes," replied the hero; "but, aw! I dawn't knaw you, do I ?" (He spoke for all the world like Lord Foppington in the old play--a proof of the perennial nature of man's affectations.

But his limping dialect, I scorn to continue to reproduce.) "It was with the intention of making myself known, that I have taken this step," said I, entirely unabashed (for impudence begets in me its like--perhaps my only martial attribute).

"We have a common subject of interest, to me very lively; and I believe I may be in a position to be of some service to a friend of yours--to give him, at least, some very welcome information." The last clause was a sop to my conscience: I could not pretend, even to myself, either the power or the will to serve Mr.Carthew; but I felt sure he would like to hear the Flying Scud was burned.
"I don't know--I--I don't understand you," stammered my victim.