'"I don't know," his voice was thick with drink, "I don't know. It's all gone. Everything's gone."
'"I lent you the money to put into the business—it must be in the business still."
'"It never was in the business. I tell you, Probus—it's all gone."
'There was silence for a few minutes. Then Mr. Probus said softly, "Mr. Halliday, we are old friends—tell me that you have only been playing off a joke upon me. You are a little disguised in liquor. I can pass over this accident. The money is in the business, you know; in this fine old business, where you put it when you borrowed it."
'"It's all gone—all gone," he repeated. "Man, why won't you believe? I tell you that everything is gone. Make me a bankrupt at once, and you will share with the creditors: oh! yes, you will be very lucky: you will divide between you the furniture of the counting-house and the empty casks on the Quay."
'Then Mr. Probus began to curse and to swear, and to threaten. He would throw Mr. Matthew into prison and keep him there all his life: he would prosecute him at the Old Bailey: he called him thief, scoundrel, villain: Mr. Matthew laughed in his drunken mood. He would not explain how the money was lost: he only repeated that it was gone—all gone.
'Mr. Will—I know that he was speaking the truth. I had seen things done—you cannot hide things from an old accountant who keeps the books: cargoes sold at a sacrifice for ready money: ships sold: our splendid fleet thrown away: there were six tall vessels in the West India trade: one was cast away: the underwriters paid for her. Where is that money? Where are the other five ships? Sold. Where is that money? Our coffers are empty: there is no running cash at the Bank: the wharf is deserted: clerks are dismissed: creditors are put off. I know that what Mr. Matthew said was true: but for the life of me I cannot tell what he has done with the money unless he has thrown it into the river.
'Then I think that Mr. Matthew took more drink, for he made no more reply, and Mr. Probus, after calling him hog and beast and other names of like significance, left him.
'When he came out of the counting-house he was like one possessed of a devil: his face distorted: his eyes blood-shot: his lips moving: his hands trembling. Sir, although he is a villain I felt sorry for him. He has lost all that he cared for: all that he valued: and since he is now old, and can make no more money, he has lost perhaps his means of livelihood.'
Ramage paused. Alice brought him a glass of beer, her own home-brewed. Thus refreshed, he presently went on again.