shafts; by words uttered in one sense, but conscience interprets them in
another.


It took a good many underwriters to insure the _Proserpine's_ freight;
but the business was done at last.

Then Wardlaw, who had feigned insouciance so admirably in that part of
his interview with Condell, went, without losing an hour, and raised a
large sum of money on the insured freight, to meet the bills that were
coming due for the gold (for he had paid for most of it in paper at short
dates), and also other bills that were approaching maturity. This done,
he breathed again, safe for a month or two from everything short of a
general panic, and full of hope from his coming master-stroke. But two
months soon pass when a man has a flock of kites in the air. Pass? They
fly. So now he looked out anxiously for his Australian ships; and went to
Lloyds' every day to hear if either had been seen or heard of by
steamers, or by faster vessels than themselves.

And, though Condell had underwritten the _Proserpine_ to the tune of
eight thousand pounds, yet still his mysterious words rang strangely in
the merchant's ears, and made him so uneasy that he employed a discreet
person to sound Condell as to what he meant by "double the insurance of
the _Shannon."_

It turned out to be the simplest affair in the world; Condell had secret
information that the _Shannon_ was in bad repairs, so he had advised his
friend to insure her heavily. For the same reason, he declined to
underwrite her freight himself.