This morning, Mr. Lindsay’s face wore an unusually sleepless, anxious look.  The man of routine was but a man, after all, and, in his distress, he longed for some intelligent, friendly sympathy.  Monroe recognized the mute appeal, but, from long habits of reticence, he was at a loss how to approach his stately chief.  Determined, however, to give him an opportunity to speak, if he chose, Monroe asked after the news, the day’s failures, and the prospects of business.  The merchant needed only a word, and broke out at once,—­

“Prospect? there is no prospect but ruin.  If a whirlwind would bury the city, or a conflagration leave it a heap of ashes, it would be better for all of us.”

“But don’t you think the darkest time has past?”

“Not at all; the pressure will continue until scores more are brought down.  Better fail at once than live in dread of it.”

“You surprise me!  Why, you are not in danger?”

“Did you ever consider?  Look at the bales of goods in our lofts,—­goods which nobody will buy and nobody can pay for.  And our acceptances have been given to the manufacturers for them,—­acceptances that are maturing daily.  Up to this time I have taken up all our paper, as it became due; but God knows how the next payments are to be made.”

“I had not thought of that.”

“The house of Lindsay & Co. has never known dishonor”—­

The merchant wiped his spectacles,—­but it was the eyes that were dim, not the glasses.  His lips quivered and his breath came hard, as he continued,—­

“But the time has come; the house must go down.”

“I hope not,” said Monroe, fervently.  “Can nothing be done?”

“Nothing.  Every resource has been used.  The banks won’t discount; and I suppose they can’t; they are fully as weak as their customers.”

“I don’t know but the offer may be useless, contemptible, even; but I have a small sum, in good notes, that may be available.”

The merchant shook his head.

“Whatever it is, you are welcome to it.  Perhaps ten thousand dollars”—­

“Ten thousand dollars!” exclaimed Mr. Lindsay,—­“you have that sum?”

“Yes,—­the little property that was my father’s.  Let me go and get the notes, and see if I can’t get some money upon them.”

Mr. Lindsay rose and took the clerk’s hand with a heartiness that astonished him.

“God bless you, Monroe,” he said.  “I may be saved, after all.  Ten thousand dollars will be enough for the present pinch, and before the next acceptance is due some relief may come.”

“Don’t speak of thanks.  I’ll get the notes in a moment.”