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“It is very sad, Mr. Selfridge; you have my deepest sympathy. I pelieve you are der largest holder of Titan stock–about one hundred thousand, is it not?”

“About that.”

“I am der heaviest insurer; so Mr. Selfridge, this battle will be largely petween you and myself.”

“Battle–is there to be any difficulty?” asked Mr. Selfridge, anxiously.

“Berhaps–I do not know. Der underwriters and outside companies have blaced matters in my hands and will not bay until I take der initiative. We must hear from one John Rowland, who, with a little child, was rescued from der berg and taken to Christiansand. He has been too sick to leave der ship which found him and is coming up der Thames in her this morning. I have a carriage at der dock and expect him at my office py noon. Dere is where we will dransact this little pizness–not here.”

“A child–saved,” queried the old gentleman; “dear me, it may be little Myra. She was not at Gibraltar with the others. I would not care–I would not care much about the money, if she was safe. But my son–my only son–is gone; and, Mr. Meyer, I am a ruined man if this insurance is not paid.”

“And I am a ruined man if it is,” said Mr. Meyer, rising. “Will you come around to der office, Mr. Selfridge? I expect der attorney and Captain Bryce are dere now.” Mr. Selfridge arose and accompanied him to the street.

A rather meagerly-furnished private office in Threadneedle Street, partitioned off from a larger one bearing Mr. Meyer’s name in the window, received the two men, one of whom, in the interests of good business, was soon to be impoverished. They had not waited a minute before Captain Bryce and Mr. Austen were announced and ushered in. Sleek, well-fed, and gentlemanly in manner, perfect types of the British naval officer, they bowed politely to Mr. Selfridge when Mr. Meyer introduced them as the captain and first officer of the Titan, and seated themselves. A few moments later brought a shrewd-looking person whom Mr. Meyer addressed as the attorney for the steamship company, but did not introduce; for such are the amenities of the English system of caste.

“Now then, gentlemen,” said Mr. Meyer, “I pelieve we can broceed to pizness up to a certain point–berhaps further. Mr. Thompson, you have the affidavit of Captain Bryce?”

“I have,” said the attorney, producing a document which Mr. Meyer glanced at and handed back.

“And in this statement, captain,” he said, “you have sworn that der voyage was uneventful up to der moment of der wreck–that is,” he added, with an oily smile, as he noticed the paling of the captain’s face–“that nothing occurred to make der Titan less seaworthy or manageable?”

“That is what I swore to,” said the captain, with a little sigh.

“You are part owner, are you not, Captain Bryce?”

“I own five shares of the company’s stock.”

“I have examined der charter and der company lists,” said Mr. Meyer; “each boat of der company is, so far as assessments and dividends are concerned, a separate company. I find you are listed as owning two sixty-seconds of der Titan stock. This makes you, under der law, part owner of der Titan, and responsible as such.”

“What do you mean, sir, by that word responsible?” said Captain Bryce, quickly.

For answer, Mr. Meyer elevated his black eyebrows, assumed an attitude of listening, looked at his watch and went to the door, which, as he opened, admitted the sound of carriage wheels.

“In here,” he called to his clerks, then faced the captain.

“What do I mean, Captain Bryce?” he thundered. “I mean that you have concealed in your sworn statement all reference to der fact that you collided with and sunk the ship Royal Age on der night before the wreck of your own ship.”

“Who says so–how do you know it?” blustered the captain. “You have only that bulletin statement of the man Rowland–an irresponsible drunkard.”