Crossley had no reason--at least no very apparent
reason--for being cross, unless, indeed, the mere fact of his being an
old bachelor was a sufficient reason. Perhaps it was! But in regard to
everything else he had, as the saying goes, nothing to complain of. He
was a prosperous East India merchant--not a miser, though a cross old
bachelor, and not a millionaire, though comfortably rich. His business
was prosperous, his friends were numerous, his digestion was good, his
nervous system was apparently all that could be desired, and he slept
well!

Standing one morning in the familiar British position before his
dining-room fire in London, he frowningly contemplated his housekeeper
as that indefatigable woman removed the breakfast equipage.

"Has the young man called this morning?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Well, when he comes tell him I had business in the city and could wait
no--"

A ring and a sharp knock interrupted him. A few moments later Charlie
Brooke was ushered into the room. It was a smallish room, for Mr
Crossley, although well off, did not see the propriety of wasting money
on unnecessary space or rent, and the doorway was so low that Charlie's
hair brushed against the top as he entered.

"I called, Mr Crossley, in accordance with the wish expressed in your
letter. Although, being a stranger, I do not--"

The young man stopped at this point and looked steadily at the old
gentleman with a peculiarly questioning expression.

"You recognise me, I see," said the old man, with a very slight smile.

"Well--I may be mistaken, but you do bear some resemblance to--"

"Just so, I'm the man that you hauled so violently out of the cabin of
the wreck last week, and shoved so unceremoniously into the life-buoy,
and I have sent for you, first, to thank you for saving my life, because
they tell me that, but for your swimming off with a rope, we should
certainly have all been lost; and, secondly, to offer you aid in any
course of life you may wish to adopt, for I have been informed that you
are not at present engaged in any special employment."

"You are very kind, sir, very kind," returned Charlie, somewhat
embarrassed. "I can scarcely claim, however, to have saved your life,
though I thankfully admit having had the opportunity to lend a hand.
The rocket-men, in reality, did the work, for without their splendid
working of the apparatus my swimming off would have been useless."

Mr Crossley frowned while the yo