it as shouldn't--but she meant that she'd have had to go to sea reg'lar
if she had been me, an' that would have done for her in about six weeks,
more or less, for the first time she ever went she was all but turned
inside--"
"If you're going citywards," interrupted Mr Crossley, again pulling out
his watch, "we may as well finish our talk in the street."
As Captain Stride was "quite agreeable" to this proposal, the two left
the house together, and, hailing a hansom, drove off in the direction of
the City.
CHAPTER FOUR.
DRIFTING ON THE ROCKS.
On the sea-shore, not far from the spot where the brig had been wrecked,
Charlie Brooke and Shank Leather walked up and down engaged in earnest
conversation soon after the interviews just described.
Very different was the day from that on which the wreck had taken place.
It seemed almost beyond possibility that the serene sky above, and the
calm, glinting ocean which rippled so softly at their feet, could be
connected with the same world in which inky clouds and snowy foam and
roaring billows had but a short time before held high revelry.
"Well, Charlie," said his friend, after a pause, "it was very good of
you, old boy, and I hope that I'll do credit to your recommendation.
The old man seems a decent sort of chap, though somewhat cross-grained."
"He is kind-hearted, Shank; I feel quite sure of that, and hope
sincerely that you will get on well with him."
"`With him!'" repeated Leather; "you don't seem to understand that the
situation he is to get for me is _not_ in connection with his own
business, whatever that may be. It is in some other City firm, the name
of which he has not yet mentioned. I can't myself understand why he is
so close!"
"Perhaps because he has been born with a secretive nature," suggested
Charlie.
"May be so. However, that's no business of mine, and it doesn't do to
be too inquisitive when a man is offering you a situation of two hundred
a year. It would be like looking a gift-horse in the mouth. All I care
about is that I'm to go to London next week and begin work--Why, you
don't seem pleased to hear of my good fortune," continued Leather,
turning a sharp look on his friend, who was gazing gravely at the sand,
in which he was poking holes with his stick.
"I congratulate you, Shank, with all my heart, and you know it; but--I'm
sorry to find that you are not to be in connection with Mr Crossley
himself, for there is more good i
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