“Well.  Miles, what do you mean to do with your ship,” demanded Jack Wallingford, that evening.  “I understand the freight for which you bargained has been transferred to another owner, on account of your late troubles; and they tell me freights, just now, are not very high.”

“Really, cousin Jack, I am hardly prepared to answer the question.  Colonial produce commands high prices in the north of Germany, they tell me; and, were I in cash, I would buy a cargo on my own account.  Some excellent sugars and coffees, &c., were offered me to-day, quite reasonably, for ready money.”

“And how much cash would be necessary to carry out that scheme, my man?”

“Some $50,000, more or less, while I have but about $10,000 on hand; though I can command $20,000 additional, by selling certain securities; so I must abandon the notion.”

“That does not follow necessarily.  Let me think a night on it, and we will talk further in the morning.  I like quick bargains, but I like a cool head.  This hot town and old Madeira keep me in a fever, and I wish a night’s rest before I make a bargain.”

The next morning, John Wallingford returned to the subject, at breakfast, which meal we took by ourselves, in order to be at liberty to converse without any auditors.

“I have thought over that sweet subject, the sugars, Miles,” commenced my cousin, “and approve of the plan.  Can you give me any further security if I will lend you the money?”

“I have some bonds and mortgages, to the amount of twenty-two thousand dollars, with me, which might be assigned for such a purpose.”

“But $22,000 are an insufficient security for the $30,000, or $35,000, which you may need to carry out your adventure.”

“That is quite true, but I have nothing else worth mentioning—­unless it be the ship, or Clawbonny.”

“Tut for the ship!—­she is gone, if you and your cargo go; and as for insurances, I want none of them—­I am a landed man, and like landed securities.  Give me your note at three months, or six months if you will, with the bonds and mortgages you mention, and a mortgage on Clawbonny, and you can have $40,000, this very day, should you need them.”

I was surprised at this offer, having no notion my kinsman was rich enough to lend so large a sum.  On a further conversation, however, I learned he had near double the sum he had mentioned, in ready money, and that his principal business in town was to invest in good city securities.  He professed himself willing, however, to lend me half, in order to help along a kinsman he liked.  I did not at all relish the notion of mortgaging Clawbonny, but John soon laughed and reasoned me out of that.  As for Grace’s securities, I parted with them with a sort of satisfaction; the idea of holding her effects being painful to me.

“Were it out of the family, or even out of the name, I should think something of it myself.  Miles,” he said, “but a mortgage from you to me is like one from me to you.  You have made me your heir, and to be honest with you, boy, I have made you mine.  If you lose my money, you lose your own.”