“To think of your getting the better of that rascal. It is admirable—upon my word it is admirable; don’t you think so, Alice?”
“Yes, uncle, indeed I do. We are all very, very much obliged to Mr. Prescott.”
And Prescott felt that he was amply repaid.
“Now, Mr. Prescott, if you will come down into my study for a moment, I will write you the cheque.”
Prescott followed him down-stairs. Captain Bradshaw sat down and wrote two cheques.
“Now, Mr. Prescott,” he said, when he had finished the second, “you will not be offended at what I am going to say. I am an old fellow, you know, and have known you a great many years. You are a young man, and you have done me a great service—a very great service. I am speaking of your restoring James to me. You have now rendered me another, and have saved me a large sum of money. Will you let me look at all this in a professional point of view? I am a very rich man.”
“No, my dear Captain Bradshaw,” Prescott said, firmly. “I am not in the least offended at your offering it to me, but I could not take money for doing what has been a great pleasure. As you say, I have known you since I was quite a boy, and have received very many kindnesses from you; and it is very hard if I may not have the pleasure of doing you a slight service now.”
“You are wrong, Prescott,” Captain Bradshaw said. “But you must have your way. I am sorry, very sorry, you will not let me prove in my own way that I feel grateful to you. However, there’s an end of it,” and he tore up one of the cheques. “Believe me, my dear boy, if you ever do want a friend, Harry Bradshaw is your man.”
“Thank you, sir,” Prescott said, shaking hands with him warmly. “I quite believe you, and am very happy in the belief. I will see about the other business in the morning.”
Prescott went upstairs again for a short time. When he had gone, Captain Bradshaw said,—