And, indeed, as a man read that column, it seemed strange to him that there should still remain any one in this world of ours who should be in straits for want of money.  Here were whole lines of gentlemen who were burdened with a surplus in their incomes, and who were loudly calling to the poor and needy to come and take it off their hands.  Here was the guileless person who was not a professional moneylender, but who would be glad to correspond, etc.  Here too was the accommodating individual who advanced sums from ten to ten thousand pounds without expense, security, or delay.  “The money actually paid over within a few hours,” ran this fascinating advertisement, conjuring up a vision of swift messengers rushing with bags of gold to the aid of the poor struggler.  A third gentleman did all business by personal application, advanced money on anything or nothing; the lightest and airiest promise was enough to content him according to his circular, and finally he never asked for more than five per cent.  This struck the Admiral as far the most promising, and his wrinkles relaxed, and his frown softened away as he gazed at it.  He folded up the paper rose from the seat, and found himself face to face with Charles Westmacott.

“Hullo, Admiral!”

“Hullo, Westmacott!” Charles had always been a favorite 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 a breath of clean air on this side of Greenwich.  But maybe you know your way about pretty well in the City?”

“Well, I know something about it.  You see I’ve never lived very far from it, and I do a good deal of my aunt’s business.”

“Maybe you know Bread Street?”

“It is out of Cheapside.”

“Well then, how do you steer for it from here?  You make me out a course and I’ll keep to it.”

“Why, Admiral, I have nothing to do.  I’ll take you there with pleasure.”

“Will you, though?  Well, I’d take it very kindly if you would.  I have business there.  Smith and Hanbury, financial agents, Bread Street.”

The pair made their way to the river-side, and so down the Thames to St. Paul’s landing—­a mode of travel which was much more to the Admiral’s taste than ’bus or cab.  On the way, he told his companion his mission and the causes which had led to it.  Charles Westmacott knew little enough of City life and the ways of business, but at least he had more experience in both than the Admiral, and he made up his mind not to leave him until the matter was settled.

“These are the people,” said the Admiral, twisting round his paper, and pointing to the advertisement which had seemed to him the most promising.  “It sounds honest and above-board, does it not?  The personal interview looks as if there were no trickery, and then no one could object to five per cent.”