“During the past decade our bank rate has been in a state of constant fluctuation, changing many times, and ranging from two-and-a-half to seven per cent., a variation which has exercised anything but a beneficial effect upon business. The gold in the issue department of the Bank of England usually amounts to about thirty millions of pounds, which are shown to be inadequate to the needs of our time. On the other hand, the Bank of France rarely allows its reserve to fall below a hundred millions of pounds, with a consequence that the French bank rate remains steady at from two-and-a-half to three per cent., and has not risen to four per cent for thirty years. In the twelve months preceding the report of 1904 the bank rate of France had not been changed once, while our own bank rate had jumped from----” Here Stranleigh crumpled the paper into a ball in his hand, and flung it into the ocean. “Great heavens!” he cried. “I wonder what kind of a brain revels in that sort of rot! And not a word about the races! What do these telegraphers imagine news is, anyhow?” The ignorant young man little dreamed that the message he was reading would exercise an astounding influence on his own career on that day when the Bank of England was compelled by the new Act of Parliament to raise its reserve of gold from thirty millions of pounds to one hundred millions. A world-wide financial disturbance lay ahead which Stranleigh did not suspect any more than did the wise lawmakers who passed the bill by a large majority. Most of them, including his lordship, thought the races more important and interesting. The captain strolled aft. More and more as the days went on the frivolous young man’s liking for this veteran of the sea had increased, in spite of the fact that the captain had endeavored to carry away his gold mine. “Sit down, captain,” he cried. “What will you drink?” “A cup of coffee, to keep me awake. I expect to be up all night, or at least till we pass the Ushant.” “Right you are, and coffee it is. Oh, by the way, I have changed my mind, and you must change your course. Instead of striking straight across from Ushant to Plymouth, steer your course up the Channel for Southampton.” “Very good, earl.” “And I’ve also changed my mind regarding that bit of land of yours.” “Oh, have you, earl?” said the captain, with a catch in his voice, and disappointment visible on his countenance. “Yes, that’s the reason we’re going to Southampton. You will lay this yacht up--I think that is the nautical term--alongside your bit of land. As you know, I am anxious that you shouldn’t be seen, and also that nobody aboard should have a chance to talk.” “I’ll see to that, earl.”