'I shall go about it to-morrow.'
'Mr. Moore,' said he, after a short silence, 'you are a stranger in Cape Town. I have many friends. If I can be useful, you will, I beg, command me.'
I thanked him and said I had brought a few letters of introduction, but, conceiving the purpose of my visit ended when I viewed the photographs, I had called nowhere. I slightly referred to my position in London—that is, as a partner in my father's bank—and added that the manager of a South African bank, whose headquarters were in Cape Town, had been a senior clerk in my father's office, but that I had not visited him.
'Would not the British admiral who is at St. Simon's Town,' said he, 'send out a ship of war to search for the wreck?'
I replied quickly, 'No, I must go myself,' and added, 'You may not have had experience in the ways of British officials.'
He smiled and answered. 'The admiral might give you leave to go in the ship he sent.'
'I can tell you exactly how it would be,' said I. 'I go to the admiral and the admiral demands the log-book of the whaler. The whaler has sailed, the admiral requires full particulars of the wreck before despatching one of his ships to a perilous part of the world; full particulars can be obtained only in London. By the time the British admiral sees his way the hull, when sought, has disappeared.'
He smiled again, stroking his chin.
'When I left the whaler,' said I, finding it eased my heart to talk, and pleased with his plain sympathy, 'I had formed a resolution. It may be, sir, that you are able to help me in it.'