"Where did he take her?" asked Anthony.
"Where but Crousillat's? There they had a long conversation with the old gentleman himself; and then they went to Girard's."
Anthony stirred on his bed.
"With what result?" he asked.
"Both the Frenchmen listened carefully. Was not mademoiselle a countrywoman of theirs? Ah, but this Sparhawk is a crafty little whip. He knows what to do. And after he had their favor,—and the favor of two such as they is of a deal of value when one means to approach others,—he went to Wilcock's, at the India Stores, and afterwards to some others. In the space of one day's going about he had the matter well in hand; he had spoken to banks and legal people, and a conference was had with such creditors as were within call. Matters were arranged, it seems, as easily as you'd turn your hand; everything was made comfortable and snug, and with nothing unpleasant in the whole of it."
"Good news, Christopher," said Anthony. "Fine news, indeed."
"I felt you'd think so, though I was in a fright at fetching it," said Christopher. He sat regarding Anthony for a space and then said: "There have been many hulks broken up in Harmony Court, but the house of Stevens is not to be one of them—at least, not yet. For Mr. Sparhawk, together with Mr. Crousillat—a most excellent pair for such a task,—have been agreed upon to receive what is left of the business and to conduct it until such times as matters begin to clear up."
"Good news again," said Anthony. "I feel as though I had a heart in my body once again, and there's a stir in my blood. And who but you, Christopher, would have thought to bring me such good word?"
But the apothecary shook his head.
"The truth is that is was not I who thought of it," said he. "It was mademoiselle."