The cashier had nothing further to say.  When they entered the bank together he saw the clerks all busily at work, and knew that no startling event had happened during his absence.  The girl had gone direct to the manager’s room, and thither the young men followed her.  The bank manager was standing at his desk, trying to preserve a severe financial cast of countenance, which the twinkle in his eyes belied.  The girl, also standing, had evidently been giving him a rapid sketch of what had occurred, but now fell into silence when accuser and accomplice appeared.

The advent of the Englishman was a godsend to the manager.  He was too courteous a gentleman to laugh in the face of a lady who very seriously was relating a set of incidents which appealed to his sense of humor, so the coming of the Lieutenant enabled him to switch off his mirth on another subject, and in reply to the officer’s cordial “Good-morning, Mr. Morton,” he replied: 

“Why, Lieutenant, I’m delighted to see you.  That was a very jolly song you sang for us last night:  I’ll never forget it.  What do you call it?  Whittington Fair?” And he laughed outright, as at a genial recollection.

The Lieutenant blushed red as a girl, and stammered: 

“Really, Mr. Morton, you know, that’s not according to the rules of evidence.  When a fellow comes up for trial, previous convictions are never allowed to be mentioned till after the sentence.  Whiddicomb Fair should not be held against me in the present crisis.”

The manager chuckled gleefully.  The cashier, when he saw how the land lay, had quietly withdrawn, closing the door behind him.

“Well, Lieutenant, I think I must have this incident cabled to Europe,” said Morton, “so the effete nations of your continent may know that a plain bank cashier isn’t afraid to tackle the British navy.  Indeed, Mr. Drummond, if you read history, you will learn that this is a dangerous coast for your warships.  It seems rather inhospitable that a guest of our town cannot pick all the gold he wants out of a bank, but a cashier has necessarily somewhat narrow views on the subject.  I was just about to apologize to Miss Amhurst, who is a valued client of ours, when you came in, and I hope, Miss Amhurst”—­ he continued gravely, turning to the girl—­ “that you will excuse us for the inconvenience to which you have been put.”

“Oh, it does not matter in the least,” replied the young woman, with nevertheless a sigh of relief.  “It was all my own fault in so carelessly leaving the money.  Some time, when less in a hurry than I am at the present moment, I will tell you how I came to make the blunder.”

Meanwhile the manager caught and interpreted correctly an imploring look from the Lieutenant.

“Before you go, Miss Amhurst, will you permit me to introduce to you my friend, Lieutenant Drummond, of H.M.S.  ‘Consternation.’”

This ritual to convention being performed, the expression on the girl’s face showed the renewal of her anxiety to be gone, and as she turned to the door, the officer sprang forward and opened it for her.  If the manager expected the young man to return, he was disappointed, for Drummond threw over his shoulder the hasty remark: