“Mr. Hastings, excuse me,” he said, presently, speaking slowly, “have you kept the money, which I paid over to you, in your own possession?”
“Of course not. I took it the same night to the Bank.”
“Ay. I guessed you would. Is it safe?” he added, lowering his voice.
“Safe!” echoed Mr. Hastings.
“I will tell you why I speak. Rutt the lawyer, over at your place, was here this afternoon, and in the course of conversation he dropped a hint that something was wrong at Godolphins’. It was not known yet, he said, but it would be known very soon.”
Mr. Hastings paused. “Did he state his grounds for the assertion?”
“No. From what I could gather, it appeared that he spoke from some vague rumour that was going about.”
“I think I can explain it,” said Mr. Hastings. “A packet of deeds belonging to one of their clients has been lost—has disappeared at least in some unaccountable manner; and this, I expect, must have given rise to the rumour. But the loss of twenty such packets, all to be made good, would not shake the solvency of Godolphin, Crosse, and Godolphin.”
“That must be it, then! What simpletons people are! swallowing any absurd rumour that gets afloat; converting a molehill into a mountain! I thought it strange—for a stable old house like the Godolphins’.”
“Let me recommend you, Brierly, not to mention it further. If such a report got about, it might cause a run upon the Bank. Not but that, so far as I believe, the Bank could stand any run that might be made upon it.”