"Letter of credit."
"Opposite desk;" and he pointed with his quill pen to the other side.
I accordingly crossed over, and commenced a fresh dialogue with another clerk.
"I desire to draw some money on this letter of credit" (handing it).
"Yes, sir" (taking it; looks at the letter, reads it carefully, then looks at me searchingly). "Are you the Mr. ——, mentioned here?"
"I am, sir" (decidedly).
"How much money do you want?"
"Twenty-five pounds."
Clerk goes to a big ledger, turns it over till he finds a certain page, looks at the page, compares it with the letter, turns to another clerk, who is writing with his back to him, hands him letter, says something in a low tone to him. Second clerk takes letter, and goes into an inner apartment, and the first commences waiting on a new comer, and I commence waiting developments.
In about five minutes clerk number two returned with something for me to sign, which I did, and he left again. After waiting, perhaps, five minutes more, I ventured to inquire if my letter of credit was ready. Clerk number one said it would be here "d'rectly;" and so it was, for clerk number two returned with it in its envelope, and in his hand a check, which he handed me, saying, "Eighty Lombard Street."