Fred read this letter with great interest. "He seems to write in good faith," he said, as he handed it back.
"Yes; Sinclair is not so wicked as weak. I quite believe him when he says that it was Bowman who instigated him to the deed."
"Do you think there is any chance of recovering the securities?" asked Fred.
"That depends upon whether I can secure a discreet and trustworthy messenger."
"Yes, sir; I suppose that is important."
"Perhaps you can suggest some one?" said the broker, eying Fred attentively.
Fred shook his head.
"I have too few acquaintances to think of anyone who would be fit," he answered.
"Would you undertake it yourself?" asked Mr. Wainwright.
"I?" stammered Fred in genuine surprise.
"Yes."
"But don"t you think I am too young?"
"Perhaps your youth may be a recommendation."
"I don"t see how, sir."
"By drawing away suspicion from you. Should I send a man, the appearance of a stranger in a small place like St. Victor--I think it has little more than a thousand inhabitants--would very likely excite the suspicions of this Bowman, and so defeat the chances of success."
"Yes, sir, I see that."
"Of course your youth presents this objection--that you may not have the requisite judgment and knowledge of the world for so delicate a mission."
"That is what I am afraid of, sir."
"Still, I have observed you closely, and have found you prompt, self-reliant, and possessed of unusual good sense. So, upon the whole, having no other person in my mind, I have decided to send you to St.
Victor if you will consent to go."
"I will certainly go, sir, if you desire it, and will do my best to succeed."
"That is all that any one could do, whatever might be his age and experience. When will you be ready?"
"To-morrow, if you wish it, sir."
"The sooner the better. I shall provide you with ample funds to defray your expenses. As to instructions, I have none to give. You must be guided by circ.u.mstances, and fall back in times of perplexity upon your natural shrewdness. Now let us address ourselves to the dinner."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
ST. VICTOR.
"So this is St. Victor," said Fred, as he got out of the train on the Grand Trunk Railroad, and looked about him curiously.
It was a small, unpretending village, composed entirely of frame houses, of modest size, and a few small stores kept, as the signs indicated, by Frenchmen. On a little elevation stood a wooden Catholic church, surmounted by a cross.
"It seems a quiet place," thought Fred. "I shall find it dull enough, but if I accomplish my purpose I won"t complain of that."
He scarcely needed to inquire for the village inn, for it was in plain sight, not a hundred yards from the station. As the town seemed to be peopled chiefly by French residents it would have been natural to conclude that the hotel also would be French. This, however, was not the case, for the Lion Inn (there was a swinging signboard adorned by the figure of a lion, the work of a fourth-rate sign painter) was kept by a short, stout, red-faced Englishman, who stood in the doorway as Fred came up, valise in hand.
"Is this the hotel?" asked Fred.
"Yes, sir," was the reply.
"I should like to stay with you for a while."
"All right, sir. Come right in, and we"ll accommodate you with a room.
Have you had supper?"
"No. I should like some, for I am very hungry."
"It shall be ready for you, sir, in a jiffy. Will "am and heggs suit you, sir?"
"Yes, I shall relish them."
"James, take the young gentleman"s bag up to No. 5."
"I should like water and towels, as I have had a long and dusty ride."
Fred was ushered into a small bedroom on the second floor, very plainly furnished, but the train boy was not accustomed to luxurious accommodations, and found it satisfactory. He indulged himself in a thorough ablution, then sat down at the window, which was in the front of the house.
Soon there was a knock at the door, and the boy James made his appearance.
"Please, sir, your supper"s ready," he said.
"And so am I," returned Fred with alacrity.
He descended to a small dining-room, adjoining the bar. It was not more than twelve feet square, and from its size it might be inferred that the Lion Inn was seldom overrun with guests.
Fred sat down at the table alone, but presently a man of thirty-five or thereabouts entered and took a seat opposite him.
"Good evening, young man," he said. "Where do you come from?"
"Good evening," answered Fred, civilly. "I come from New York."
The other arched his brows.