The Spokane press. [volume] (Spokane, Wash.) 1902-1939, 1909-08-02
CHAPTER XIV.

Our scene now changes from the
wild ocean and it's perils to snug
room In Fenchurch street, the in
ner office of Wardlaw & Son.. The
great office table was covered with
writing materials and papers, all
but square space inclosed with a
little silver rail, and inside that
space lay purple morocco case
about 10 inches square; it was
locked, and contained an exquisite
portrait OF Helen Rolleston.
The inmate of that office was
battling for his commercial exist
ence. under accumulated difficult
ties and dangers. Like those who
sailed the Prosperine's longboat
his eye had now to be on every
wave, and the sheet forever in his
hand.
His measures had been ably
taken but. as will happen when
clever men are driven into a COR
ner, he had backed events rather
too freely against time; had al
lowed too slight a margin for I'M
forseen delays. For instance, he
had calculated on her arrival too
nicely. She was fortnight over
due, and that delay brought peril
He had also counted upon get
ting news of the Prosperine. But
not a word had reacher Lloyds as
yet.
At this very crisis came the
panic of '66. Overland and Quincy
broke; and Wardlaw's experience
led him to fear that, sooner or
later, there would be a run on
every bank in London. Now he had
borrowed GS0.000,000 at one bank,
and G35,000 at another, and with
out his ships could not possibly
pay a quarter of the money. II the
banks in question were run upon,
and obliged to call in all their re-
sources, his credit must go; and
this, in his precarious position, was
ruin.
He had concealed his whole con-
dition from his father, by false
bookkeeping. Indeed, he had only
two confidants in the world; poor
old Michael Penfold, and Helen
RollestOn's portrait.
He still loved Helen Rolleston
with a chaste. constant and ardent
affection. He loved money too
we'll; but he loved Helen better.
1t was 10 o'clock. Mr.. Penfold
was sorting the letters when a
buxom young woman rushed into
the outer office, crying, 20, Mr..
Penfold!" and sank into a chair,
breathless.
Dear heart! what is the matter
now" said the old gentleman.
II have had q, dream, sir; |
dreamed Isaw Ne> Wylie out on
the seas, in boat; Nd the wind
1t was blowing and theu-ss a
roaring at that degree as Joe
looked at me, and says he, Pray
for me, Nancy Rouse So ! says,
o, dear, Joe, what is the matter
and what ever Is become OF the
Prosperine? a
Gone to hell says he; which
he knows ! object to foul language.
'Gone-there-' says he, and l am
sailing in her wake!' o. Mr.. Pen
fold, do tell me, have you got any
news of the "-cs2er,ne this morn
ing?"
what ia that to your" inquired
Arthur Wardlaw. who had entered.
Penfold explained. "Sir, Miss
Rouse is my landlady. Mr.. Wylie
Is her-her-sweetheart."
well, madam" says Wardlaw,
II am sorry to say ! can give you
no information. l share you anx.
iety. for have got 100000 of
gold in the ship"
With this he entered his inner
office.
He was writing letter, when he
heard In the outer office voice he
thought he knew. He got up and
listened. 1t was SO. or all the
voices In the city, this was the one
1t most dismayed him to heart at
the present crisis.
He satisfied himself that fatal
blow was coming, He then walked
quietly to his table. seated himself
and prepared to receive the stroke
with external composure.
Penfold announced. "Mr. Burten.
shaw"
Mr.. Burtenshaw, one of the
managers of Morland's bank, came
In. and Wardlaw motioned him