Excerpt: “The steamship Nemesis, of two thousand five hundred and fifty tons register, and belonging to the port of London, had nearly finished her loading one foggy afternoon in a foggy November. She was at Tilbury, taking in a general cargo for Capetown and Australian ports, and as the last few cases were coming on board the skipper came on board too by way of the big gangway, close by which the second mate was standing. "Is that the last of it?" asked the 'old man' gloomily. "Yes, sir," said Mr. Cade with equal gloominess. When a man is second mate at the age of fifty it is not surprising that he should be sulky. "And it is time it was, for we're well down to our mark, and no mistake about it, sir." Captain Jordan said nothing, but walked for'ard to his cabin and sat down wearily. He threw a bundle of papers on his table, and filling his pipe smoked for a few minutes. He was a fine handsome white-headed man of some fifty-two years, and had once been ambitious. Now he worked for Messrs. Gruddle, Shody, & Co., and, as all seamen knew, to work for them was to have lost all chances that following the sea affords even in these days."
