Sooner than his friend had expected he accepted that gentleman’s invitation, and entering the offices in Dowgate Hill, where another company—the “Universal Law Stationery”—was in course of formation, found the promoter up to his ears in business, with half a dozen people waiting to see him.
“Tell Mr. Black I will not detain him five minutes,” said Arthur, quite loud enough for the whole congregation to hear, after, it may be remarked, the pleasing fashion of country people in London. “You know me, don’t you?” he added, seeing the clerk hesitate, “I am the secretary of the Protector Bread Company.”
Thereupon the visitors each drew his own conclusion. Some, very green indeed, thought what a great man Mr. Dudley must be, thus to force himself into the presence of the magnificent director; others, less easily impressionable, decided that a screw had got loose in the Protector, which Mr. Black was expected to set right. At all events, they each and all began working out the problem of what the secretary could want with his principal, while Arthur marched into the presence of the great man, and found him not engaged with any individual, but simply writing his letters for post.
“What’s up with you?” were his first words; “has any one come for a million of shares? or is there a fire at Stangate—or—or what the devil brings you into the City at such a time of day as this?”
“Our conversation this afternoon,” Arthur answered, boldly. “I could not rest; it is not fair, Mr. Black; you have not treated me as I should have treated you. Do you remember what you said to me that day when this matter was first mooted between us?”
“Pray sit down,” said Mr. Black, magnificently, waving his visitor to a seat, “and explain your meaning to me quietly, if you can. Do I remember what? we said so many things that day it would be impossible for me to recollect all, or indeed any, of them, unless recalled to my memory.”
“Do you remember what you said about going half profits with me?” Arthur asked.
“I can’t say that I do. Were there any profits then to share?”
“Prospective profits,” the other answered. “You said you expected twenty or thirty thousand pounds out of the ‘Protector,’ and that whatever you got, you would go shares with me.”
“Did I?” asked Mr. Black, innocently. “I wish, Dudley, you had chosen any other time in the day than this for coming to pester about by-gones,” he added, “for I have no end of letters to write; but, however, as you are here, say all you have got to say.”