Greensea Island: A Mystery of the Essex CoastBridges, Victor
General
Greensea Island: A Mystery of the Essex Coast
Bridges, Victor
Adventure stories; Detective and mystery stories; England -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
"I shouldn't think there was much fear of that," returned the lawyer
reassuringly. "He seems to be a most amiable person, judging from
what I saw of him." He held out his hand. "Thanks for an A1 lunch,"
he added, "and I shall expect you back at the office some time
between four and five."
I paid my bill, and we parted from each other on the pavement
outside, but not before I had extracted from the Inspector (who had
confessed to being "partial to a day's shooting") a promise that he
would come down and spend a week-end with me at Greensea as soon as I
was comfortably settled in. There was something about his stolid but
shrewd personality which distinctly appealed to me, and, in addition
to that I felt that, in view of the curious atmosphere which appeared
to brood over my new inheritance I might find him an uncommonly
useful friend.
My two companions started off together across Holborn, and, turning
down Chancery Lane, I set out for Cockspur Street, where the head
offices of the Planet Line are situated. It was not without certain
misgivings that I mounted the big flight of stone steps and sent in
my card by one of the clerks with a request for an interview with the
secretary. In spite of what I had said to Mr. Drayton, I was in
reality none too certain in my own mind that the management would be
sufficiently obliging to relieve me from the remainder of my
contract. The prospect of another long, monotonous voyage to Manaos
and back was anything but an attractive one, and I waited for my
summons in the outer office with considerable anxiety.
Luck, however, proved to be on my side. One of the principal
directors, whom I knew quite well to speak to, happened to be engaged
with the secretary at the very time when I was shown into the
latter's room. Like myself, both these big-wigs had evidently
lunched well, and when I told them my story and put forward my
request they received it in the friendliest fashion possible.
"You may set your mind quite at rest, Mr. Dryden," said the director,
with a sort of pompous affability. "I will lay your application
before the Board myself, and you can take it from me that there is
not likely to be any opposition. We shall be sorry to lose you, of
course, but I am sure that none of my fellow directors would wish to
stand in your way. Your record since you have been with us is one
which entitles you to every consideration."
Stifling a modest blush, I expressed my thanks as well as I could
manage; and after a little more conversation I shook hands with them
both and took my leave.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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