The Son of Monte-Cristo Volume I Part 60

"Are the bank-notes legal tender in Algiers?" asked Clary.

Father-in-law and son-in-law looked upon her pitifully; they were Bank of England notes, which even a Greenlander would expect to have cashed on sight.

"Edwards," said the banker, vivaciously, "is Wharton in the ball-room?"

"Yes, father."

"Tell him to come here directly."

"Who is Wharton?" asked Clary.

"The only man I can trust to leave a ball at midnight to get a s.h.i.+p ready for sailing. It will be a dear affair though."

Clary laughed.

"Mr. Mortimer, am I rich enough to pay this Wharton?"

"Oh, with your fortune you could buy a thousand Whartons."

"And he will do all I ask of him?"

"Yes."

"Good! Wharton is my man. One thing more, Mr. Mortimer. You have the confidence of my family. I will give you a power of attorney to do with my fortune what you wish in case--"

"In case?"

"I do not return from Algeria."

"Oh, mademoiselle!" exclaimed Mortimer, with emotion. "Are you going to run such dangers?"

"I do not say that, but business is business, and I always like to have things in order."

"Here is Mr. Wharton," said the son-in-law.

The person who entered was a man of herculean stature. His thick head was covered with bushy red hair.

Clary looked curiously at the giant.

"Are you an Englishman, Mr. Wharton?" she asked.

"No, an American from Baltimore, miss, and your humble servant."

"Mademoiselle," interrupted Mortimer, "will you please explain to Mr.

Wharton the nature of the business?"

"Willingly. Will you take a seat, please?"

"Thank you," replied the Yankee, "I prefer to stand."

"Mr. Wharton, you have a s.h.i.+p at anchor at Ma.r.s.eilles?"

"A s.h.i.+p, no, a pearl--the Crocodile--which is famous all over the world for its stanchness and rapidity."

"You own it?"

"Yes."

"How much did it cost you, Mr. Wharton?"

"How much did it cost me? That is a peculiar question," muttered the American.

"Captain," said Clary, rising, "I am rich, very rich. I am going to make you a proposition, and hope you will accept it. What price do you ask for the Crocodile?"

"But the Crocodile is not for sale. I would rather die than give up my s.h.i.+p."

The captain paced up and down the room with giant strides and struck his forehead with his fist. The proposition, together with the liquors he had drunk, excited him.

"Let us say 100,000 francs," said Clary.

The captain continued to strike his forehead.

"One hundred and twenty thousand francs."

The strokes became weaker.

"A good business," said Mortimer.

"And you shall not be separated from your beloved Crocodile," said Clary, laughingly; "for as soon as I become the owner of the vessel, I shall make you its captain."

"I'll accept the offer."

"Good; Mr. Mortimer will pay you the money."

"Willingly," said the banker, "as soon as everything is arranged."

"That shall be done at once," exclaimed the giant, gleefully; "and, miss, give me your hand to bind the bargain."

The young girl became frightened; if the giant were to grasp her slender fingers he might crush them, and yet she knew that the shake of the hand was the usual mode sailors chose to bind a bargain. Hesitatingly she held forth her hand, but Wharton, who guessed her anxiety, laid his fist in hers in as gentle a manner as possible. The girl laughed and said:

"Captain, have steam up at once!"

"Yes, miss; but the ball?"

"The ball is a secondary matter. You are my captain, and, naturally--"

"You are right. I didn't care for the ball, anyhow. It was only the fine brandy I thought of."