The Yacht Club | Page 4

the nabob, who appeared to be trifling
with his bright hopes. The tin chest was about nine inches each way,
and contained the private papers and other valuables of the rich man,
including, now, the thirteen hundred and fifty dollars just received.
Captain Patterdale was president of the Twenty-first National Bank of
Belfast, which was located a short distance from his house. The tin box
was kept in the vaults of the bank; but the owner had taken it home to
examine some documents at his leisure, intending to return it to the
bank before night. As it was in the library when Mr. Hasbrook called,
the money was deposited in it for safe keeping over night.
"I'm afraid I can't go with you, Donald," said Captain Patterdale, after
he had asked him all the questions he could think of about the Sea
Foam.
"I am sorry, sir; for Miss Nellie wanted to go, and I was going to ask
father to wait till after sunset on her account," added the young man.
Mr. Hasbrook began to look hopeful; for the last remark of the nabob
indicated a possible termination of the conversation. Donald began his
retreat toward the hall of the mansion, for he wanted to see the fair
daughter again; but he had not reached the door before the captain

called him back.
"I suppose your father wants some more money to-night," said he,
feeling in his pocket for the key to open the tin box.
"He didn't say anything to me about it, sir," replied Donald; "I don't
think he does."
Hasbrook looked hopeless again; for Captain Patterdale began to
calculate how much he had paid, and how much more he was to pay,
for the yacht. While he was doing so, there was a knock at the street
door, and, upon being invited to do so, Mr. Laud Cavendish entered the
library with a bill in his hand.
Mr. Laud Cavendish was a great man in his own estimation, and a great
swell in the estimation of everybody else. He was a clerk or salesman
in a store; but he was dressed very elegantly for a provincial city like
Belfast, and for a "counter-jumper" on six or eight dollars a week. He
was about eighteen years old, tall, and rather slender. His upper lip was
adorned with an incipient mustache, which had been tenderly coaxed
and colored for two years, without producing any prodigious result,
though it was the pride and glory of the owner. Mr. Cavendish was a
dreamy young gentleman, who believed that the Fates had made a bad
mistake in his case, inasmuch as he was the son of an honest and
industrious carpenter, instead of the son and heir of one of the nabobs
of Belfast. He believed that he was fitted to adorn the highest circle in
society, to shine among the aristocracy of the city, and it was a cruel
shame that he should be compelled to work in a store, weigh out tea
and sugar, carry goods to the elegant mansions where he ought to be
admitted at the front, instead of the back, door, collect bills, and
perform whatever other service might be required of him. The Fates
had blundered and conspired against him; but he was not without hope
that the daughter of some rich man, who might fall in love with him
and his mustache, would redeem him from his slavery to an occupation
he hated, and lift him up to the sphere where he belonged. Laud was
"soaring after the infinite," and so he rather neglected the mundane and
practical, and his employer did not consider him a very desirable clerk.

Mr. Laud Cavendish came with a bill in his hand, the footing of which
was the sum due his employer for certain necessary articles just
delivered at the kitchen door of the elegant mansion. Captain Patterdale
opened the tin box, and took therefrom some twenty dollars to pay the
bill, which Laud receipted. Mr. Hasbrook hoped he would go, and that
Don John would go; and perhaps they would have gone if a rather
exciting event had not occurred to detain them.
"Father! father!" exclaimed Miss Nellie, rushing into the library.
"What's the matter, Nellie?" demanded her father, calmly; for he had
long been a sea captain, and was used to emergencies.
"Michael has just dropped down in a fit!" gasped Nellie.
"Where is he?"
"In the yard."
Captain Patterdale, followed by his three visitors, rushed through the
hall, out at the front door, near which the unfortunate man had fallen,
and, with the assistance of his companions, lifted him from the ground.
Michael was the hired man who took care of the horses, and kept the
grounds around the elegant mansion in order. He was