Chapter 15

STILL AMONG SHOALS.

Next day brought the Admiral a cheque for L5,000 from
Mr. McAdam, and a stamped agreement by which he made over
his pension papers to the speculative investor. It
was not until he had signed and sent it off that the full
significance of all that he had done broke upon him. He
had sacrificed everything. His pension was gone. He had
nothing save only what he could earn. But the stout old
heart never quailed. He waited eagerly for a letter from
the Saint Lawrence Shipping Company, and in the meanwhile
he gave his landlord a quarter's notice. Hundred pound
a year houses would in future be a luxury which he could
not aspire to. A small lodging in some inexpensive part
of London must be the substitute for his breezy Norwood
villa. So be it, then! Better that a thousand fold than
that his name should be associated with failure and
disgrace.

On that morning Harold Denver was to meet the
creditors of the firm, and to explain the situation to
them. It was a hateful task, a degrading task, but he
set himself to do it with quiet resolution. At home they
waited in intense anxiety to learn the result of the
meeting. It was late before he returned,
haggard pale, like a man who has done and suffered much.

"What's this board in front of the house? he asked.

"We are going to try a little change of scene," said
the Admiral. "This place is neither town nor
country. But never mind that, boy. Tell us what
happened in the City."

"God help me! My wretched business driving you out
of house and home!" cried Harold, broken down by this
fresh evidence of the effects of his misfortunes. "It is
easier for me to meet my creditors than to see you two
suffering so patiently for my sake."

"Tut, tut!" cried the Admiral. "There's no suffering
in the matter. Mother would rather be near the theaters.
That's at the bottom of it, isn't it, mother? You come
and sit down here between us and tell us all about it."

Harold sat down with a loving hand in each of his.

"It's not so bad as we thought," said he, "and yet it
is bad enough. I have about ten days to find the money,
but I don't know which way to turn for it. Pearson,
however, lied, as usual, when he spoke of L13,000. The
amount is not quite L7,000."

The Admiral claped his hands. "I knew we should
weather it after all! Hurrah my boy! Hip, hip, hip,
hurrah!"

Harold gazed at him in surprise, while the old seaman
waved his arm above his head and bellowed out three
stentorian cheers. "Where am I to get seven thousand
pounds from, dad?" he asked.

"Never mind. You spin your yarn."

"Well, they were very good and very kind, but of
course they must