“South,—towards Italy, perhaps?”
“Nor there, either. I was meditating a trip to England.”
“We should be on the road together,” said Merl. “I'm off by four o'clock.”
“How so? What's the reason of this sudden start?”
“There's going to be a crash here,” said Merl, speaking in a lower tone. “The Government have been doing the thing with too high a hand, and there's mischief brewing.”
“Are you sure of this?” asked Martin.
“Only too sure, that's all. I bought in, on Tuesday last, at sixty-four and an eighth, and the same stock is now fifty-one and a quarter, and will be forty to-morrow. The day after—” Here Mr. Merl made a motion with his outstretched arm, to indicate utter extinction.
“You're a heavy loser, then?” asked Martin, eagerly.
“I shall be, to the tune of some thirteen thousand pounds. It was just on that account I came in here. I shall need money within the week, and must turn those Irish securities of yours into cash,—some of them at least,—and I want a hint from you as to which I ought to dispose of and which hold over. You told me one day, I remember, that there was a portion of the property likely to rise greatly in value—”
“You told me, sir,” said Captain Martin, breaking suddenly in, “when I gave you these same bonds, that they should remain in your own hands, and never leave them. That was the condition on which I gave them.”