She was a woman of some spirit, and that reply roused her.

"I will mention it in one word," she said, smartly." My business
is--gratitude."

He was completely at a loss to understand what she meant, and he
said so plainly. Instead of explaining herself she put a question.

"Do you remember the night of the 11th of March, between five and
six years since?"

He considered for a moment.

"No," he said, "I don't remember it. Excuse me Mrs. Callender, I
have affairs of my own to attend to which cause me some anxiety---"

"Let me assist your memory, Mr. Lismore, and I will leave you to
your affairs. On the date that I have referred to you were on your
way to the railway-station at Bexmore, to catch the night express
from the north to London."

As a hint that his time was valuable the ship-owner had hitherto
remained standing. He now took his customary seat, and began to
listen with some interest. Mrs. Callender had produced her effect
on him already.

"It was absolutely necessary," she proceeded, "that you should be
on board your ship in the London docks at nine o'clock the next
morning. If you had lost the express the vessel would have sailed
without you."