.

CHAPTER XVIII.

BUT this utter prostration of his confederate began to alarm Wylie, and
rouse him to exertion. Certainly, he was very sorry for what he had done,
and would have undone it and forfeited his three thousand pounds in a
moment, if he could. But, as he could not undo the crime, he was all the
more determined to reap the reward. Why, that three thousand pounds, for
aught he knew, was the price of his soul; and he was not the man to let
his soul go gratis.

He finished the rest of the brandy, and went after his men, to keep them
true to him by promises; but the next day he came to the office in
Fenchurch Street, and asked anxiously for Wardlaw. Wardlaw had not
arrived. He waited, but the merchant never came; and Michael told him
with considerable anxiety that this was the first time his young master
had missed coming this five years.

In course of the day, several underwriters came in, with long faces, to
verify the report, which had now reached Lloyd's, that the _Proserpine_
had foundered at sea.

"It is too true," said Michael; "and poor Mr. Wylie here has barely
escaped with his life. He was mate of the ship, gentlemen."

Upon this, each visitor questioned Wylie, and Wylie returned the same
smooth answer to all inquiries. One heavy gale after another had so tried
the ship that her seams had opened, and let in more water than all the
exertions of the crew and passengers could discharge; at last, they had
taken to the boats; the long-boat had been picked up; the cutter had
never been heard of since.

They nearly all asked after the ship's log.

"I have got it safe at home," said he.

It was in his pocket all the time.

Some asked him where the other survivors were. He told them five had
shipped on board the _Maria,_ and three were with him at Poplar, one
disabled by the hardships they had all endured.

One or two complained angrily of Mr. Wardlaw's absence at such a time.

"Well, good gentlemen," said Wylie, "I'll tell ye. Mr. Wardlaw's
sweetheart was aboard the ship. He is a'most broken-hearted. He vallied
her more than all the gold, that you may take your oath on."

This stroke, coming from a rough fellow in a pea-jacket, who looked as
simple as he was cunning, silenced remonstrance, and went far to disarm
suspicion; and so pleased Michael Penfold that he said, "Mr. Wylie, you
are interested in this business, would you mind going to Mr. Wardlaw's
house and asking what we are to do next