“I conclude,” he said, looking down, and frowning very slightly, “that their recovery is practicable?”
“I understand, perfectly,” answered the young lady. “The funnel-heads of the Prinz Karl are almost visible at low tide, and all that is wanted is a diver. The company, to whom I have applied, admit the fact, but decline to make a speciality of my case. They refer me to the salvage operations, which would mean a delay, as I have explained, fatal to our interests. I am nearly penniless, sir, and quite incapable of undertaking the cost, which would be considerable, on my own account. If only you would bear it for me, claiming, if you would, your share—”
Gilead lifted a majestic hand.
“We are not a commission agency, madam,” he said, in a tone so grave that the young lady started, and lifted appealing eyes to him.
“O!” she whispered, in a drowned voice, “I did not mean to offend you. But I did not know—I am so young and inexperienced.”
He smiled reassuringly.
“You could not advance a better claim on the Agency,” he said. “Well, I will make, in justice both to yourself and us, such inquiries as are necessary to the case, and report the result to you together with our decision.”
“When?” she entreated, hardly able to articulate.
“If you will call the first thing to-morrow morning,” he said—“the office opens at ten o’clock—I shall hope to be in a position to afford you the assistance you desire. The company must be consulted, your claim admitted, permission given. You understand?”
She looked at him intently a little, with large haunting eyes; then, whispering that she would trust in him implicitly, that she placed her destiny in his hands, withdrew without another word. Having to pass near Miss Halifax on her way out, she gathered her skirts, with a scarce perceptible movement, from contact with that young lady.