“Not directly, sir; but there came a short note signed 'C. Christopher,' stating that his Lordship had been very ill, and was detained at Ems, and desiring to have a bank post-bill for two hundred forwarded to him by return.” “You sent it?” “Of course, sir; the letter had some details which proved it to be authentic.” “And the sum a trifle,” broke in Dunn. “She is scarcely at Malta by this, Hankes. What am I thinking of? She 'll not reach it before next Friday or Saturday. Do you remember young Kellett's regiment?” “No, sir.” “Well, find it out. I'll write to the Horse Guards tomorrow to have him promoted,--to give him an Ensigncy in some regiment serving in India. Whom do you know at Malta, Hankes?” “I know several, sir; Edmond Grant, in the Storekeeper's Department; James Hocksley, Second Harbor-Master; Paul Wesley, in the Under-Secretary's Office.” “Any of them will do. Telegraph to detain her; that her brother is coming home; she must not go to the Crimea.” There was a stern fixity of purpose declared in the way these last words were spoken, which at the same time warned Hankes from asking any explanation of them. “And now for business. What news from Arigua,--any ore?” “Plenty, sir; the new shaft has turned out admirably. It is yielding upwards of twenty-eight per cent, and Holmes offers thirty pounds a ton for the raw cobalt.” “I don't care for that, sir. I asked how were shares,” said Dunn, peevishly. “Not so well as might be expected, sir. The shake at Glengariff was felt widely.” “What do you mean? The shares fell, but they rose again; they suffered one of those fluctuations that attend on all commercial or industrial enterprises; but they rallied even more quickly than they went down. When I left town yesterday, they were at one hundred and forty-three.” “I know it, sir. I received your telegram, and I showed it to Bayle and Childers, but they only smiled, and said, 'So much the better for the holders.'” “I defy any man--I don't care what may be his abilities or what his zeal--to benefit this country!” exclaimed Dunn, passionately. “There is amongst Irishmen, towards each other, such an amount of narrow jealousy--mean, miserable, envious rivalry--as would swamp the best intentions, and destroy the wisest plans that ever were conceived. May my fate prove a warning to whoever is fool enough to follow me!”