With his position in the City, he had only to go to the famous money-lending and discounting house of Bulpit Brothers--reported to "turn over" millions in their business every year--and to supply himself at once with the necessary funds. Forty thousand pounds was a trifling transaction to Bulpit Brothers. Having got the money, how, in the present state of his trade, was the loan to be paid back? His thoughts reverted to his marriage with Natalie. "Curious!" he said to himself, recalling his conversation with Sir Joseph on board the yacht. "Graybrooke told me he would give his daughter half his fortune on her marriage. Half Graybrooke's fortune happens to be just forty thousand pounds!" He took a turn in the room. No! It was impossible to apply to Sir Joseph. Once shake Sir Joseph's conviction of his commercial solidity, and the marriage would be certainly deferred--if not absolutely broken off. Sir Joseph's fortune could be made available, in the present emergency, in but one way--he might use it to repay his debt. He had only to make the date at which the loan expired coincide with the date of his marriage, and there was his father-in-law's money at his disposal, or at his wife's disposal--which meant the same thing. "It's well I pressed Graybrooke about the marriage when I did!" he thought. "I can borrow the money at a short date. In three months from this Natalie will be my wife." He drove to his club to get breakfast, with his mind cleared, for the time being, of all its anxieties but one. Knowing where he could procure the loan, he was by no means equally sure of being able to find the security on which he could borrow the money. Living up to his income; having no expectations from any living creature; possessing in landed property only some thirty or forty acres in Somersetshire, with a quaint little dwelling, half farm house, half-cottage, attached--he was incapable of providing the needful security from his own personal resources. To appeal to wealthy friends in the City would be to let those friends into the secret of his embarrassments, and to put his credit in peril. He finished his breakfast, and went back to Austin Friars--failing entirely, so far, to see how he was to remove the last obstacle now left in his way. The doors were open to the public; business had begun. He had not been ten minutes in his room before the shipping-clerk knocked at the door and interrupted him, still absorbed in his own anxious thoughts. "What is it?" he asked, irritably. "Duplicate Bills of Lading, sir," answered the clerk, placing the documents on his ma ster's table. Found! There was the security on his writing-desk, staring him in the face! He dismissed the clerk and examined the papers.