At the office of Milling & FitzMaurice, a hasty consultation was held between the partners. The conditions under which the ship, Sea Nymph, had come into port, and how Mr. Barclugh had inspected her and had arranged to buy her, were discussed. The cargo of the Sea Nymph was in their warehouse, and no one could foretell the consequences. During this discussion of their own affairs, Milling & FitzMaurice did not think of Barclugh. The Doctor waited and waited for some one to come, but no one came to his relief. The accountant, Mr. Hopewell, had heard the news on his way to the office, then had gone home to consult with his wife. At last the Doctor became worried, and leaving his patient alone, he went to the office of Milling & FitzMaurice. As he entered the accounting room, he walked quietly up to Mr. Milling and said: “Sir, I sent Mr. Barclugh’s servant to tell you that that gentleman had the _peste_, and that he must have nurses and attention for he is a very sick man.” “Oh, the man did not ask us for nurses,” contended Mr. Milling. “He simply told us that Mr. Barclugh was sick with the _peste_, and we had no idea that our services were needed for a mission of that kind.” “There is no time to talk, gentlemen. Mr. Barclugh lies unconscious with fever, and I do not know to whom he can appeal in his distress but your house. Good day, gentlemen, I must be with my patient.” As soon as the Doctor had left, Mr. Milling looked at Robert FitzMaurice as he said: “Robert, what shall we do about this? I can not tie myself up for three weeks and be exposed to this fever, and neither can you. Our affairs can spare neither you nor me. Is there not some poor devil whom we can get to nurse him? Barclugh has plenty of money with us.” “Yes,” responded FitzMaurice. “There is Barton, he needs the money, and he owes us; he ought to go and do this; he could then square our account.” Barton was one of the men in the warehouse of the firm and had a young wife and four children. When the offer was made to him in the office of his employers, he answered: “Gentlemen, my life and my family are just as dear to me as either of yours. I would not risk my life in that service for all of your combined wealth. My life is exactly as dear to me as to any prince or potentate.” Mr. Milling looked at Robert FitzMaurice with a dissatisfied air, as he followed Barton’s footsteps and closed the door behind him, while he said: “I believe Barclugh will be in pretty bad shape, before we can get any one to nurse him.” In the meantime, however, the news of the fever began to travel outside of Philadelphia. Express messengers went on horseback to the north and to the south, and on the way to Germantown, the news of Barclugh’s fever reached Dorminghurst.