? I'll give you his address and a
line begging him to make an effort and see you. Business is the heart's
best ointment. Eh, dear Mr. Wylie, I have known grief, too; and I think I
should have gone mad when they sent my poor son away, but for business,
especially the summing up of long columns, etc."
Wylie called at the house in Russell Square, and asked to see Mr.
Wardlaw.
The servant shook his head. "You can't see him; he is very ill."
"Very ill?" said Wylie. "I'm sorry for that. Well, but I shan't make him
any worse; and Mr. Penfold says I must see him. It is very particular, I
tell you. He won't thank you for refusing me, when he comes to hear of
it."
He said this very seriously; and the servant, after a short hesitation,
begged him to sit down in the passage a moment. He then went into the
dining-room, and shortly reappeared, holding the door open. Out came, not
Wardlaw junior, but Wardlaw senior.
"My son is in no condition to receive you," said he, gravely; "but I am
at your service. What is your business?"
Wylie was taken off his guard, and stammered out something about the
_Shannon._
"The _Shannon!_ What have you to do with her? You belong to the
_Proserpine."_
"Ay, sir; but I had his orders to ship forty chests of lead and smelted
copper on board the _Shannon."_
"Well?"
"Ye see, sir," said Wylie, "Mr. Wardlaw was particular about them, and I
feel responsible like, having shipped them aboard another vessel."
"Have you not the captain's receipt?"
"That I have, sir, at home. But you could hardly read it for salt water."
"Well," said Wardlaw senior, "I will direct our agent at Liverpool to
look after them, and send them up at once to my cellars in Fenchurch
Street. Forty chests of lead and copper, I think you said." And he took a
note of this directly. Wylie was not a little discomfited at this
unexpected turn things had taken; but he held his tongue now, for fear of
making bad worse. Wardlaw senior went on to say that he should have to
conduct the business of the firm for a time, in spite of his old age and
failing health.
This announcement made Wylie perspire with anxiety, and his three
thousand pounds seemed to melt away from him.
"But never mind," said old Wardlaw; "I am very glad you came. In fact,
you are the very man I wanted to see. My poor afflicted friend has asked
after you several times. Be good enough to follow me."
He led the way into the dining-room, and there sat
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