on, resuming his story, "the business of Strangway & Co. was in Bread-street. We had warehouses on the ground floor and in the cellars, the offices were on the first floor, and warehouses filled from over the first floor to the slates.
"The offices closed at six; but, as I was anxious to put everything in the finest order before starting on my honeymoon, I was not able to leave at that hour. In addition to the bookkeeping I did most of the routine correspondence, and I had some letters to write. When they were finished, I should lock up the place, put the keys in my pocket, leave them at Mr. Strangway's house on Clapham Common, and go on to my lodgings in Wandsworth, and from my lodgings to my sweetheart Mary's home, in Wandsworth too.
"As I was working away, writing letters at the top of my speed, and quite alone in the office—in the whole house—Stephen Grainly, one of our travellers, rang the bell, and, much to my surprise and annoyance, when I opened the front door, walked upstairs, following my lead through the unlighted passages. I never cared for Stephen Grainly, no one in the office liked him except Mr. Strangway himself. Grainly was an excellent man at his work; but, to my taste, too smooth and good—too sweet to be sound.
"'What, Mayfield,' he cried, 'working away still! Why, when I saw the light, I made sure it must be Broadwood (our assistant accountant, who was to take my place while I was away), and, as I had a goodish bit of money, I thought I'd better bank here than in my own home in Hoxton; I am not satisfied it is safe to stow three hundred pounds in cash in my humble home.'
"'All right,' said I; 'but I wish you had come earlier. The safest place to bank money in is the Bank.' He did not know I was going to be married next day, and I was glad of it, for the man always made me feel uncomfortable, and I did not wish him to touch my little romance even with a word.
"'Be here at four o'clock!' he cried. 'My dear fellow, I couldn't do it. How could I? Why, I didn't get to King's Cross until a quarter to six! Here you are. He produced his pocket-book. 'You needn't give me more than two minutes. Cheques, five hundred and seventy-four, eighteen six. Notes, two hundred and forty-five. Gold, forty-eight.'
"As you may fancy, I was in a hurry to get rid of him. He seemed in no hurry to go. He sat down, pulled out his handkerchief, and began wiping his forehead, although it was October, and by no means warm.
"He handed me his order-book."
"You will initial my book?' said he, and he handed me his order-book, part of which was ruled in money-columns, where he had a list of the money he had collected. The whole was eight hundred and sixty-seven pounds, eighteen shillings and sixpence, and for this I signed.
"Have you taken the numbers of the notes?' I asked.
"No,' said he.
