A 12,000 Pound Check

The hour grew late, and Mr. Brand paced his chamber in moody silence. The train had come in, but his messenger had not returned, and the merchant was troubled—troubled by a vague sort of doubt, which haunted him in spite of his faith in Lake. A merry, sober old trader of long experience had said that Lake was too young to fill the important position which he held, but Mr. Brand had never found his trust in Tom misplaced.

Having heard rumors concerning a house with which he had extensive dealings, the merchant had dispatched Lake to London, telling him to make inquiries, and in any case to get the partners of the firm in question to settle their account.

So Lake had gone from Liverpool to London. The time appointed for his return passed, and still he did not come.

A lady entered, and stole to the merchant’s side. Her own sweet face was anxious, and there was a tremor in the music of her voice, as she said:

“Do you think he will be here to night, dear papa?”

“I hope so, Mary; but it is very late.”

“Is there no other train?”

“Only the night express, and that does not stop except at the central stations.”

“Perhaps he will come, papa; he would not mind coming ten miles, even if he had to walk.”

“He should not have missed the train,” said Mr. Brand, sternly; “punctuality is an imperative duty with men of business.”

“But, papa, something may have occurred to detain him.”

“Nothing should detain a man who has given his word.”

The fair pleader was silenced; her father was angry, and, knowing his strictness of principle, and how inveterate was his dislike of any breach of discipline or duty, she did not venture to speak again.

The time dragged slowly on; Mr. Brand continued his restless walk, and Mary sat subdued and quiet, watching him. She saw… Read More