Chapter 13 - In Strange Waters

When Doctor Walker had departed, the Admiral packedall his possessions back into his sea chest with theexception of one little brass-bound desk. This heunlocked, and took from it a dozen or so blue sheets ofpaper all mottled over with stamps and seals, with verylarge V. R.'s printed upon the heads of them. He tiedthese carefully into a small bundle, and placing them inthe inner pocket of his coat, he seized his stick andhat.

"Oh, John, don't do this rash thing," cried Mrs.Denver, laying her hands upon his sleeve. "I have seenso little of you, John. Only three years since you leftthe service. Don't leave me again. I know it is weak ofme, but I cannot bear it."

"There's my own brave lass," said he, smoothing downthe grey-shot hair. "We've lived in honor together,mother, and please God in honor we'll die. No matter howdebts are made, they have got to be met, and what the boyowes we owe. He has not the money, and how is he to findit? He can't find it. What then? It becomes mybusiness, and there's only one way for it."

"But it may not be so very bad, John. Had we notbest wait until after he sees these people to-morrow?"

"They may give him little time, lass. But I'll havea care that I don't go so far that I can't put backagain. Now, mother, there's no use holding me. It's gotto be done, and there's no sense in shirking it." Hedetached her fingers from his sleeve, pushed her gentlyback into an arm-chair, and hurried from the house.

In less than half an hour the Admiral was whirledinto Victoria Station and found himself amid a densebustling throng, who jostled and pushed in the crowdedterminus. His errand, which had seemed feasible enoughin his own room, began now to present difficulties in thecarrying out, and he puzzled over how he should take thefirst steps. Amid the stream of business men, eachhurrying on his definite way, the old seaman in his greytweed suit and black soft hat strode slowly along, hishead sunk and his brow wrinkled in perplexity. Suddenlyan idea occurred to him. He walked back to the railwaystall and bought a daily paper. This he turned andturned until a certain column met his eye, when hesmoothed it out, and carrying it over to a seat,proceeded to read it at his leisure.

And, indeed, as a man read that column, itseemed strange to him that there should still remainany one in this world of ours who should be in straitsfor want of money. Here were whole lines of gentlemenwho were burdened with a surplus in their incomes, andwho were loudly calling to the poor and needy to come andtake it off their hands. Here was the guileless personwho was not a professional moneylender, but who would beglad to correspond, etc. Here too was the accommodatingindividual who advanced sums from ten to ten thousandpounds without expense, security, or delay. "The moneyactually paid over within a few hours," ran thisfascinating advertisement, conjuring up a vision of swiftmessengers rushing with bags of gold to the aid of thepoor struggler. A third gentleman did all business bypersonal application, advanced money on anything ornothing; the lightest and airiest promise was enough tocontent him according to his circular, and finally henever asked for more than five per cent. This struck theAdmiral as far the most promising, and his wrinklesrelaxed, and his frown softened away as he gazed at it. He folded up the paper rose from the seat, and foundhimself face to face with Charles Westmacott.

"Hullo, Admiral!"

"Hullo, Westmacott!" Charles had always been afavorite of the seaman's. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I have been doing a little business for my aunt. But I have never seen you in London before."

"I hate the place. It smothers me. There's not abreath of clean air on this side of Greenwich. But maybeyou know your way about pretty well in the City?"

"Well, I know something about it. You see I've neverlived very far from it, and I do a good deal of my aunt'sbusiness."

"Maybe you know Bread Street?"

"It is out of Cheapside."

"Well then, how do you steer for it from here? Youmake me out a course and I'll keep to it."

"Why, Admiral, I have nothing to do. I'll take youthere with pleasure."

"Will you, though? Well, I'd take it very kindly ifyou would. I have business there. Smith and Hanbury,financial agents, Bread Street."

The pair made their way to the river-side, and sodown the Thames to St. Paul's landing--a mode of travelwhich was much more to the Admiral's taste than 'bus orcab. On the way, he told his companion his mission andthe causes which had led to it. Charles Westmacott knewlittle enough of City life and the ways of business, butat least he had more experience in both than the Admiral,and he made up his mind not to leave him until thematter was settled.

"These are the people," said the Admiral, twistinground his paper, and pointing to the advertisement whichhad seemed to him the most promising. "It sounds honestand above-board, does it not? The personal interviewlooks as if there were no trickery, and then no one couldobject to five per cent."

"No, it seems fair enough."

"It is not pleasant to have to go hat in handborrowing money, but there are times, as you may findbefore you are my age, Westmacott, when a man must stowaway his pride. But here's their number, and their plateis on the corner of the door."

A narrow entrance was flanked on either side by a rowof brasses, ranging upwards from the shipbrokers and thesolicitors who occupied the ground floors, through a longsuccession of West Indian agents, architects, surveyors,and brokers, to the firm of which they were in quest. Awinding stone stair, well carpeted and railed at firstbut growing shabbier with every landing, brought thempast innumerable doors until, at last, just under theground-glass roofing, the names of Smith and Hanbury wereto be seen painted in large white letters across a panel,with a laconic invitation to push beneath it. Followingout the suggestion, the Admiral and his companionfound themselves in a dingy apartment, ill lit from acouple of glazed windows. An ink-stained table, litteredwith pens, papers, and almanacs, an American cloth sofa,three chairs of varying patterns, and a much-worn carpet,constituted all the furniture, save only a very large andobtrusive porcelain spittoon, and a gaudily framed andvery somber picture which hung above the fireplace. Sitting in front of this picture, and staring gloomily atit, as being the only thing which he could stare at, wasa small sallow-faced boy with a large head, who in theintervals of his art studies munched sedately at anapple.

"Is Mr. Smith or Mr. Hanbury in?" asked the Admiral.

"There ain't no such people," said the small boy.

"But you have the names on the door."

"Ah, that is the name of the firm, you see. It'sonly a name. It's Mr. Reuben Metaxa that you wants."

"Well then, is he in?"

"No, he's not."

"When will he be back?"

"Can't tell, I'm sure. He's gone to lunch. Sometimes he takes one hour, and sometimes two. It'll betwo to-day, I 'spect, for he said he was hungry afore hewent."

"Then I suppose that we had better call again, " saidthe Admiral.

"Not a bit," cried Charles. "I know how to managethese little imps. See here, you young varmint, here'sa shilling for you. Run off and fetch your master. Ifyou don't bring him here in five minutes I'll clump youon the side of the head when you get back. Shoo! Scat!" He charged at the youth, who bolted from the room andclattered madly down-stairs.

"He'll fetch him," said Charles. "Let us makeourselves at home. This sofa does not feel over andabove safe. It was not meant for fifteen-stone men. But this doesn't look quite the sort of place where onewould expect to pick up money."

"Just what I was thinking," said the Admiral, lookingruefully about him.

"Ah, well! I have heard that the best furnishedoffices generally belong to the poorest firms. Let ushope it's the opposite here. They can't spend much onthe management anyhow. That pumpkin-headed boy was thestaff, I suppose. Ha, by Jove, that's his voice, andhe's got our man, I think!"

As he spoke the youth appeared in the doorway with asmall, brown, dried-up little chip of a man at his heels. He was clean-shaven and blue-chinned, with bristlingblack hair, and keen brown eyes which shone out verybrightly from between pouched under-lids and droopingupper ones. He advanced, glancing keenly from oneto the other of his visitors, and slowly rubbing togetherhis thin, blue-veined hands. The small boy closed thedoor behind him, and discreetly vanished.

"I am Mr. Reuben Metaxa," said the moneylender. "Wasit about an advance you wished to see me?"

"Yes."

"For you, I presume?" turning to Charles Westmacott.

"No, for this gentleman."

The moneylender looked surprised. "How much did youdesire?"

"I thought of five thousand pounds," said theAdmiral.

"And on what security?"

"I am a retired admiral of the British navy. Youwill find my name in the Navy List. There is my card. I have here my pension papers. I get L850 a year. Ithought that perhaps if you were to hold these papers itwould be security enough that I should pay you. Youcould draw my pension, and repay yourselves at the rate,say, of L500 a year, taking your five per cent interestas well."

"What interest?"

"Five per cent per annum.

Mr. Metaxa laughed. "Per annum!" he said. "Five percent a month."

"A month! That would be sixty per cent a year."

"Precisely."

"But that is monstrous."

"I don't ask gentlemen to come to me. They come oftheir own free will. Those are my terms, and they cantake it or leave it."

"Then I shall leave it." The Admiral rose angrilyfrom his chair.

"But one moment, sir. Just sit down and we shallchat the matter over. Yours is a rather unusual case andwe may find some other way of doing what you wish. Ofcourse the security which you offer is no security atall, and no sane man would advance five thousand pennieson it."

"No security? Why not, sir?"

"You might die to-morrow. You are not a young man. What age are you?"

"Sixty-three."

Mr. Metaxa turned over a long column of figures. "Here is an actuary's table," said he. "At your time oflife the average expectancy of life is only a few yearseven in a well-preserved man."

"Do you mean to insinuate that I am not awell-preserved man?"

"Well, Admiral, it is a trying life at sea. Sailorsin their younger days are gay dogs, and take it out ofthemselves. Then when they grow older thy are still hardat it, and have no chance of rest or peace. I do notthink a sailor's life a good one."

"I'll tell you what, sir," said the Admiral hotly. "If you have two pairs of gloves I'll undertake to knockyou out under three rounds. Or I'll race you from hereto St. Paul's, and my friend here will see fair. I'lllet you see whether I am an old man or not."

"This is beside the question," said the moneylenderwith a deprecatory shrug. "The point is that if you diedto-morrow where would be the security then?"

"I could insure my life, and make the policy over toyou."

"Your premiums for such a sum, if any office wouldhave you, which I very much doubt, would come to close onfive hundred a year. That would hardly suit your book."

"Well, sir, what do you intend to propose?" asked theAdmiral.

"I might, to accommodate you, work it in another way. I should send for a medical man, and have an opinion uponyour life. Then I might see what could be done."

"That is quite fair. I have no objection to that."

"There is a very clever doctor in the street here. Proudie is his name. John, go and fetch Doctor Proudie." The youth was dispatched upon his errand, while Mr.Metaxa sat at his desk, trimming his nails, and shootingout little comments upon the weather. Presently feetwere heard upon the stairs, the moneylender hurriedout, there was a sound of whispering, and he returnedwith a large, fat, greasy-looking man, clad in a muchworn frock-coat, and a very dilapidated top hat.

"Doctor Proudie, gentlemen," said Mr. Metaxa.

The doctor bowed, smiled, whipped off his hat, andproduced his stethoscope from its interior with the airof a conjurer upon the stage. "Which of these gentlemenam I to examine?" he asked, blinking from one to theother of them. "Ah, it is you! Only your waistcoat! You need not undo your collar. Thank you! A fullbreath! Thank you! Ninety-nine! Thank you! Now holdyour breath for a moment. Oh, dear, dear, what is thisI hear?"

"What is it then?" asked the Admiral coolly.

"Tut! tut! This is a great pity. Have you hadrheumatic fever?"

"Never."

"You have had some serious illness?"

"Never."

"Ah, you are an admiral. You have been abroad,tropics, malaria, ague--I know."

"I have never had a day's illness."

"Not to your knowledge; but you have inhaledunhealthy air, and it has left its effect. You have anorganic murmur--slight but distinct."

"Is it dangerous?"

"It might at anytime become so. You should not takeviolent exercise."

"Oh, indeed. It would hurt me to run a half mile?"

"It would be very dangerous."

"And a mile?"

"Would be almost certainly fatal."

"Then there is nothing else the matter?"

"No. But if the heart is weak, then everything isweak, and the life is not a sound one."

"You see, Admiral," remarked Mr. Metaxa, as thedoctor secreted his stethoscope once more in his hat, "myremarks were not entirely uncalled for. I am sorry thatthe doctor's opinion is not more favorable, but this isa matter of business, and certain obvious precautionsmust be taken."

"Of course. Then the matter is at an end."

"Well, we might even now do business. I am mostanxious to be of use to you. How long do you think,doctor, that this gentleman will in all probabilitylive?"

"Well, well, it's rather a delicate question toanswer," said Dr. Proudie, with a show of embarrassment.

"Not a bit, sir. Out with it! I have faced deathtoo often to flinch from it now, though I saw it as nearme as you are."

"Well, well, we must go by averages of course. Shallwe say two years? I should think that you have a fulltwo years before you."

"In two years your pension would bring you in L1,600. Now I will do my very best for you, Admiral! I willadvance you L2,000, and you can make over to me yourpension for your life. It is pure speculation on mypart. If you die to-morrow I lose my money. If thedoctor's prophecy is correct I shall still be out ofpocket. If you live a little longer, then I may see mymoney again. It is the very best I can do for you."

"Then you wish to buy my pension?"

"Yes, for two thousand down."

"And if I live for twenty years?"

"Oh, in that case of course my speculation would bemore successful. But you have heard the doctor'sopinion."

"Would you advance the money instantly?"

"You should have a thousand at once. The otherthousand I should expect you to take in furniture."

"In furniture?"

"Yes, Admiral. We shall do you a beautiful housefulat that sum. It is the custom of my clients to take halfin furniture."

The Admiral sat in dire perplexity. He had come outto get money, and to go back without any, to be powerlessto help when his boy needed every shilling to save himfrom disaster, that would be very bitter to him. On theother hand, it was so much that he surrendered, andso little that he received. Little, and yetsomething. Would it not be better than going backempty-handed? He saw the yellow backed cheque-book uponthe table. The moneylender opened it and dipped his peninto the ink.

"Shall I fill it up?" said he.

"I think, Admiral," remarked Westmacott, "that we hadbetter have a little walk and some luncheon before wesettle this matter."

"Oh, we may as well do it at once. It would beabsurd to postpone it now," Metaxa spoke with some heat,and his eyes glinted angrily from between his narrow lidsat the imperturbable Charles. The Admiral was simple inmoney matters, but he had seen much of men and hadlearned to read them. He saw that venomous glance, andsaw too that intense eagerness was peeping out frombeneath the careless air which the agent had assumed.

"You're quite right, Westmacott," said he. "We'llhave a little walk before we settle it."

"But I may not be here this afternoon."

"Then we must choose another day."

"But why not settle it now?"

"Because I prefer not," said the Admiral shortly.

"Very well. But remember that my offer is only forto-day. It is off unless you take it at once."

"Let it be off, then.

"There's my fee," cried the doctor.

"How much?"

"A guinea."

The Admiral threw a pound and a shilling upon thetable. "Come, Westmacott," said he, and they walkedtogether from the room.

"I don't like it," said Charles, when they foundthemselves in the street once more; "I don't profess tobe a very sharp chap, but this is a trifle too thin. What did he want to go out and speak to the doctor for? And how very convenient this tale of a weak heart was! I believe they are a couple of rogues, and in league witheach other."

"A shark and a pilot fish," said the Admiral.

"I'll tell you what I propose, sir. There's a lawyernamed McAdam who does my aunt's business. He is a veryhonest fellow, and lives at the other side of Poultry. We'll go over to him together and have his opinion aboutthe whole matter."

"How far is it to his place?"

"Oh, a mile at least. We can have a cab."

"A mile? Then we shall see if there is any truth inwhat that swab of a doctor said. Come, my boy, and clapon all sail, and see who can stay the longest."

Then the sober denizens of the heart of businessLondon saw a singular sight as they returned from theirluncheons. Down the roadway, dodging among cabs andcarts, ran a weather-stained elderly man, with wideflapping black hat, and homely suit of tweeds. Withelbows braced back, hands clenched near his armpits, andchest protruded, he scudded along, while close at hisheels lumbered a large-limbed, heavy, yellow mustachedyoung man, who seemed to feel the exercise a good dealmore than his senior. On they dashed, helter-skelter,until they pulled up panting at the office where thelawyer of the Westmacotts was to be found.

"There now!" cried the Admiral in triumph. "Whatd'ye think of that? Nothing wrong in the engine-room,eh?"

"You seem fit enough, sir.

"Blessed if I believe the swab was a certificateddoctor at all. He was flying false colors, or I ammistaken."

"They keep the directories and registers in thiseating-house," said Westmacott. "We'll go and look himout."

They did so, but the medical rolls contained no suchname as that of Dr. Proudie, of Bread Street.

"Pretty villainy this!" cried the Admiral, thumpinghis chest. "A dummy doctor and a vamped up disease. Well, we've tried the rogues, Westmacott! Let us seewhat we can do with your honest man."