“Yes, sir,” said the clerk, respectfully.
“What next?”
“The Hellas, from Smyrna, Mavricordato, master.”
“Nothing for me. Cargo of figs and raisins, from Drum and Company.”
“The Albatross, from Columbus, Compass, master.”
“Look to that, Quagga—look to that. She belongs to Master Porphyry, the richest merchant in the whole world. Her cargo is of great value. By last advices from my correspondent, expect some bales of rich fabrics.—Go on, Quagga.”
“There’s a paragraph, here, sir, that seems to relate to that vessel.”
“Read it, Quagga.”
“‘In the Albatross, arrived in our harbour, comes the only son of the great merchant, Master Porphyry, whose name is in such high estimation in every part of the civilised world for his wealth and his philanthropy. It is said that he has come out on a commercial voyage, and that it was Master Porphyry’s desire that his son should visit some of the most celebrated places of traffic in various parts of the globe.’”