“But our money is well covered.” “As things are.” “And we are as solvent, sir, as——” “As need be, with the ordinary time to meet the calls that may be made upon us. But in the event of a sudden fall, of one big failure leading to another—in the event of a sudden rush to present our notes?” “Even then, sir, we are well secured. We should have no difficulty in finding accommodation.” “In ordinary circumstances, no—and if we alone needed it. We could go to A. or B. or C, and there would be no difficulty. We have the money’s worth and a good margin. But if A. and B. and C. were also short, what then, lad?” Arthur felt something approaching contempt. The banker was inventing bogies, imagining dangers, dreaming of difficulties where none existed. He saw him in a new light, and discovered him to be timorous. “But that state of things is not likely to occur,” he objected. “Perhaps not, but if it did?” “Have you had any hint?” “No. But I see that iron is down—since Saturday. And the Manchester market was flat yesterday.” “Things that have happened before,” Arthur said. “I think, sir, it is really Wolley’s affair that is troubling you.” “If it ended with Wolley it would be a small matter. No, I am not thinking of that.” He looked before him and drummed upon the table with his fingers. “But the positions calls for—caution. We must go no farther. We must be careful how we grant accommodation no matter who applies for it. We must raise our reserve. See, if you please, that we do not discount a single bill without recourse to me—though, of course, you will let nothing be noticed on the other side of the counter.” “Very good,” Arthur said. But he thought that the other’s caution was running away with him. The sky seemed clear to him—he could discern no sign of a storm, and he did not reflect that, as he had never been present at a storm, the signs might escape him. “Very good,” he said, “I’ll tell Rodd. I am sure it will please him,” and with that tiny sting, he went out. The conversation had been held behind closed doors, yet it had its effect. A chill seemed to fall upon the bank. The air became less genial. Ovington’s face grew both keen and watchful. Arthur, perplexed and puzzled, was more brusque, his speech shorter. Rodd’s face reflected his superiors’ gravity. Only Clement, going about his branch of the work with his usual stolid indifference, perceived no change in the temperature, and, depressed before, was only a degree nearer to the mean level.