These long-headed men of business little knew the man.  They did not know that he was great in the highest sense of the term, and that, among other elements of his greatness, he possessed the power of seizing the little things—­the little opportunities—­of life, and turning them to the best account; and that he not only knew what should be done; and how to do it, but was gifted with that inflexible determination of purpose to carry out a design, without which knowledge and talent can never accomplish great things.  The merchant did not, as they supposed, work late at night.  He measured his time, and measured his work.  In this he was like many other men in this struggling world; but he stuck to his time and to his work, in which respect he resembled the great few whose names stand prominent on the page of history.

In consequence of this, Mr. Stuart wrought with success at both departments of his business, and while in the one he coined thousands, in the other he earned more than the average wages of a working-man.

The Avenger was erratic and uncertain in her voyages.  She evidently sailed to the principal islands of the South Seas, and did business with them all.  From one of these voyages, Henry, her captain, returned with a wife,—­a dark-haired, dark-eyed, lady-like girl,—­for whom he built a small cottage beside his father’s, and left her there while he was away at sea.

It was observed by the clerks in Mr. Stuart’s counting-room, that their chief accountant, Mr. Corrie, was a great letter-writer,—­that when one letter was finished, he invariably began another, and kept it by him, adding sheet after sheet to it until the Avenger returned and carried it off.  Once Mr. Corrie was called hurriedly away while in the act of addressing one of these epistles.  He left it lying on his desk, and a small, contemptible, little apprentice allowed his curiosity so far to get the better of him, that he looked at the address, and informed his companions that Mr. Corrie’s correspondent was a certain Miss Alice Mason!

Of course, Mr. Corrie received voluminous replies from this mysterious Alice; and, if one might judge from his expression on reading these epistles (as that contemptible little apprentice did judge), the course of his love ran smoother than usual; thus, by its exceptionality, proving the truth of the rule.

Years passed away.  The merchant’s head became gray, but his gigantic frame was as straight and his step as firm as ever.  His wife, strange to say, looked younger as she grew older!  It seemed as if she were recovering from some terrible illness that had made her prematurely old, and were now renewing her youth.  The business prospered to such an extent that, by becoming altogether too wonderful, it ceased to be a matter of wonder altogether to the merchants of the Green Isle.  They regarded it as semi-miraculous,—­the most unprecedented case of “luck” that had ever been heard of in the annals of mercantile history.