"To see Mr. Brockford," Max replied curtly. "If you don't think he will be long, I'll wait a few moments."
Five minutes or so later a man emerged from the inner office, and Max was conducted to Mr. Brockford's presence. The latter was a tall, thin man, with a somewhat hatchet-shaped face, clean-shaven cheeks, grey hair, and shaggy eyebrows. According to Brazilian custom, he was in his shirt-sleeves, and equally according to custom, the inevitable cigar was between his lips. Seeing that he had a gentleman, and one who was also a stranger to the country, to deal with, he invited Max to be seated, at the same time pushing a box of cigars towards him.
"What may I have the pleasure of doing for you?" he inquired in English, and with a courtesy that Max attributed to the anticipation of a large order, but which was in reality habitual to him.
"Well," said Max, "to tell the truth, I have come to see you in the hope that you may be able to give me something to do. I arrived from England this morning in the steamship _Diamintina_, and as I've not much money, I want to find employment as soon as I possibly can. I've tried a number of offices, but cannot hear of anything."
The other glanced at his visitor's well-cut clothes, elegant boots, and general air of refined dandyism. He was not accustomed to receiving applications for employment from young men who looked like princes in disguise.
"I'm afraid I have nothing to offer you," he said after a momentary pause. "Things are very quiet in Rio just now, and we are more inclined to discharge our clerks than to take fresh ones on. What were you doing before you came out here?"
This was the question Max had been dreading. It had brought him to grief so many times that day.
"I was in the English army," he replied. "I held a commission in a cavalry regiment. I'm afraid I do not know much about business, but I am fairly quick at picking up things, and if you will give me a chance, I fancy you will not find me wanting in diligence."
The other drummed with his fingers on the desk before him, and as he did so he pulled almost savagely at his cigar. It was a trick he had when thinking.
"I don't ask you any questions as to why you gave up the army and came out to take a clerkship in Rio," he said at last; "but if I were you I should keep that part of my history to myself. An officer from a crack regiment seldom develops into a good clerk."