“No, sir. They say they’ve come to take possession.”
“What?”
“I suppose they’re bailiffs, sir.”
“And I suppose you’re a confounded fool!” cried Clive angrily. “That mine does not owe a penny!”
“One of the gentlemen said he was a shareholder, sir, the principal shareholder, and he gave me his card.”
Clive snatched it, and Dinah read the name thereon—
“Mr Wrigley, New Inn, Strand.”
“Wrigley?” cried Clive excitedly.
“Yes, sir; and he said he must see you at once.”
“All right; I’ll come. Wait for me yonder at the corner, Robson; and I beg your pardon for speaking so roughly just now.”