The word “rich” was the straw at which the drowning man clutched. So here was Stranleigh, the living contradiction of that phrase “The last of the Dandies.” Here was the embodiment of the spirit of Piccadilly and Bond Street confronted with the rugged, carelessly dressed dictator of Threadneedle Street, a frown on the beetling brow of one man, an inane, silly smile on the lips of the other. At the sight of this smile the governor saw at once that his first thought had been right. He should not have wasted a moment on this nonentity, yet he had before him the herculean task of providing the institute over which he presided with seventy millions of pounds worth of gold within five days, or stand discredited before the world. Despair was strangling expiring hope as he realized that this simpering noodle could not be the god in the machine; godlike in stalwart form, perhaps, but that simpering smile would have discredited Jove himself. “What can I do for you, my lord?” he bellowed forth, temper, patience, and time short. “Well, sir,” sniggered Stranleigh, “there’s--there’s several things you can do for me. In--in the first place you don’t mind my sitting down, do you? It seems to me I can speak better sitting down. I’ve--I’ve really never been able to make a speech in my life, even after dinner, simply because a fellow has to stand up, don’t you know.” “I hope, my lord, you won’t think it necessary to make a speech here.” “No, no, I merely wished a quiet talk,” said his lordship, drawing up a chair without invitation, and sitting down. “You see, I have no head for figures, and so little knowledge of business do I possess that I am compelled to engage twelve professional men to look after my affairs.” “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” snapped the governor. “Well, you see, governor, now and again I act without asking any advice from those men. Seems kind of a silly thing to do, don’t you think? Keeping twelve dogs, and barking a fellow’s bally self, don’t you know.” “Yes. What has all that to do with the Bank of England?” “I’m coming to that. You see, we are all imbued with the same respect for the bank that we feel for the church, and the navy, and the king, and sometimes for the Government, but not always, as, for instance, when they pass silly Acts about your gold reserve, instead of coming to you in a friendly manner, as I’m doing, and settling the thing quietly.” “I quite agree with you, my lord, but my time is very limited, and I should be obliged----” “Quite so, sir, quite so. These ideas are not my own, at all. I didn’t know much about the crisis until four or five days ago when Mr. Corbitt--Alexander Corbitt, you know, of Selwyn’s Bank. You’re acquainted with him, perhaps?” “I know Mr. Corbitt--yes.” “Well, those are his opinions, and I agree with him, you know.” “Mr. Corbitt is an authority on finance,” admitted the governor, as if, instead of praising the absent man, he was denouncing him.