"Come home," said Anthony; and to Weir he added, "See if Dr. King can be found; and, if so, fetch him at once."
XXXII
Ships had gone down a-plenty, and merchants had lost their goods, and drowned sailormen were numbered in hundreds. New tidings came in with each up-river sloop, and with each coach that crossed Jersey. But there was no news that traveled so fast as that of the sinking of the Rufus Stevens; for with her had gone down the house of that name, and there had perished the fine mind of its master.
The exchanges roared with the intelligence; merchants wagged their heads and said they were sorry; agents said there had never been such a house and never would again; brokers regretfully put the concern out of their reckoning; bankers looked closely to their accounts and their securities.
"A new ship," said a portly trader, from his favorite vantage-place behind a measure of ale. "A new ship, and gone down. It's a pity; it's a great pity. I looked to see that vessel do rare things in the trade."
"And why?" asked a blunt-nosed man, who was drinking Cuban rum with hot water and brown sugar. "Because she was built like a whale's belly, and had masts that raked the sky? For me," and he stirred his drink with much positiveness, "I like a ship with reasonable stowage, and a spread of sail that's within the activities of human men. Give more than that and you court peril; your great vessels will always be floating coffins; they will be beyond management in any sort of stiff weather."
"Well," said the trader, "she's gone down, whatever the reason for it; and I'm told a fine cargo has gone with her."
"Stevens set much store by that cargo," said Mr. Stroude, who was one of the group. "He counted upon it to set matters aright with his creditors."
The snub-nosed man tossed off an equal half of his rum and hot water and regarded the remainder with appreciative eyes.