"What is that?" cried Wardlaw senior; "the Proserpine; show him in at once."
Now this caused Arthur Wardlaw considerable anxiety; for obvious reasons he did not want his father and this sailor to exchange a word together. However, that was inevitable now. The door opened; and the bronzed face and sturdy figure of Wylie, clad in a rough pea-jacket, came slouching in.
Arthur went hastily to meet him, and gave him an expressive look of warning, even while he welcomed him in cordial accents.
"Glad to see you safe home," said Wardlaw senior.
"Thank ye, guv'nor," said Wylie. "Had a squeak for it, this time."
"Where is your ship?"
Wylie shook his head sorrowfully. "Bottom of the Pacific."
"Good heavens! What! is she lost?"
"That she is, sir. Foundered at sea, twelve hundred miles from the Horn, and more."
"And the freight? the gold?" put in Arthur, with well-feigned anxiety.