When the negotiations with Mrs. Keeling had been brought to a satisfactory conclusion by the lawyer of the company, and when that gentleman was rubbing his hands over his easy victory, the good ship Gibrontus was steaming out of the Mersey on her way to New York. The stewards in the grand saloon were busy getting things in order for dinner, when a wan and gaunt passenger spoke to one of them.
"Where have you placed me at table?" he asked.
"What name, sir?" asked the steward.
"Keeling."
The steward looked along the main tables, up one side and down the other, reading the cards, but nowhere did he find the name he was in search of. Then he looked at the small tables, but also without success.
"How do you spell it, sir?" he asked the patient passenger.
"K-double-e-l-i-n-g."
"Thank you, sir."
Then he looked up and down the four rows of names on the passenger list he held in his hand, but finally shook his head.
"I can't find your name on the passenger list," he said. "I'll speak to the purser, sir."
