'I want to talk with you a little, Mr. Montjoy, about money this morning.'
James's heart beat quick; he could not help it, for the Commodore had placed five hundred dollars in his hands a short time previous, and requested him to keep it until he called for it.
'I put five hundred dollars in your hands lately, which I was to have, you know, when I should call for it.'
'Yes, sir, certainly by all means.' Poor James! he knew not where it was to come from, and he secretly wished that he had never owned a dollar, or that there was no such thing as money.
'Well, sir, I have just received advices from the city that certain sum of money, which I suppose—'
Ned stepped into the office, and requested the presence of his brother a moment. The Commodore bade him go, by all means, that he would wait his leisure.
The business for which James was required was to close a very advantageous bargain for some produce, but he was in no state of mind to do business—money, ready money, was the only idea he could cherish; it clung to his spirit like the nightmare; he could neither bargain nor calculate, so he waived the matter, and was back again to the little room; he merely whispered to Ned,
'The Commodore, I suppose, has come for his money.'
'What shall we do?'
'I don't know.'