He was lost in thought for some little time, and then, rising, he touched the bell upon the table. Gilray trotted in upon the signal so rapidly and noiselessly, that he might have been one of those convenient genii in the Eastern fables, only that the little clerk's appearance, from the tips of his ink-stained fingers to the toes of his seedy boots, was so hopelessly prosaic that it was impossible to picture him as anything but what he was.
"Ah, Gilray!" the merchant began, "is Mr. Dimsdale in the office?"
"Yes, sir."
"That's all right. He seems to be very regular in his attendance."
"Very, sir."
"And seems to take to the business very well."
"Uncommonly quick, sir, to be sure," said the head clerk. "What with work among the ships, and work in the office, he's at it late and early."
"That is very right," said the old man, playing with the letter weights. "Application in youth, Gilray, leads to leisure in old age. Is the Maid of Athens unloading?"
"Mr. Dimsdale has been down to her this morning, sir. They're getting the things out fast. He wants to call attention to the state of the vessel, Mr. Girdlestone. He says that it's making water even in dock, and that some of the hands say that they won't go back in her."
"Tut! tut!" John Girdlestone said peevishly. "What are the Government inspectors for? There is no use paying them if we are to inspect ourselves. If they insist upon any alterations they shall be made."