seldom needed for even the most valuable
freights, save in the China trade. But there
were other reasons for my mission. Messrs.
Krantz were debited in our books for considerable
sums; and, although their commercial
fame was spotless and their wealth undisputed,
it was thought desirable that a balance should
be struck. There were long and complicated
accounts to go through, and it had appeared
advisable to my chiefs that I should inspect the
papers and receive the money; the rather that
I could take the opportunity of my presence in
Denmark to inquire into the real nature of
certain investments at Copenhagen which had been
represented to us as excellent. I was to come
back in the brig, which was to take in, at
Copenhagen, a return freight of Baltic wheat.
It had been settled that without waiting for the
Emma's unloading, I was to hasten to the
capital by way of Schleswig and Jutland.

When we dropped anchor in Kiel harbour,
the last crimson flush of the sunset had died
out on the horizon, with its ever-green oaks,
rolling sand-bluffs, flat pastures, and thousand
windmills. On the following morning I set
off, guided by one of the hangers-on of the
hotel where I had spent the night, in search of
the residence of the Messrs. Krantz. The guide,
a Dutch lad in a green jacket and wooden
shoes, was loud in his praise of the wealth
and merits of our correspondents. It was old
Mynheer Krantz, he declared, who had first
turned the stream of Baltic traffic into Kiel Bay;
it was he who had encouraged the setting up of
manufactories in the town; it was he who had,
at his own charges, cleared away a dangerous
sand-bar on which many a vessel had struck
when the wind was easterly, and the currents
too strong to be resisted. Krantz and Co.
had thriven wonderfully. They were very rich.
The narrator ought to know, for had he not
a brother, Rupert—his own name was Clauss,
at my service—who was messenger in their
office? They were liberal masters. And then
their charity to the poor, their hospitality, and
their tulips! Clauss, like a true Hollander,
grew eloquent on the score of the tulips of
Messrs. Krantz, father and son, for the Co.
appeared to be mythical. And before he had
finished we stood before the merchant's door.

A fine old house, large though low, and built
of brickwork covered over with a sort of glossy
cement of a pinkish colour, seamed by huge
black beams of oak, heavy and stout enough to
have been the timbers of a line-of-battle ship.
The latticed windows, framed in a thick growth
of creepers, had queer old diamond panes set
in lead, queer mullions of carved stone, and
little polished reflectors placed outside those of
the lowest story, to convey to the inmates the
images of persons passing in the street without,
exactly such as I had seen before in Flemish
towns. Behind the house was a huge walled
garden, flanked by conservatories, and one wing of
the mansion was devoted to the counting-house;
through the window of which I could see the
grey head of an elderly cashier bending over a
heap of papers and glittering coin. The brassplate,
on which were inscribed the words
"Krantz and Cie," was as bright as Mambrino's
helmet, and from the stork's nest on the roof to
the moss-grown pavement, everything looked
venerable, quiet, and serene.

M. Krantz himself was from home, but I was
cordially received by his son and junior partner,
Paul Krantz, one of the finest young fellows
I had ever seen; tall and fair-faced, with
bright honest blue eyes and yellow hair. He
was some years younger than myself, being
about five or six-and-twenty, but was married.
He and his young wife and children resided
with his father, who was a widower and had
no son but Paul.

"We have been duly advised of your purpose
in visiting Kiel, Mr. Compton," said the young
merchant, as he shook hands with me; "and
though my father was unfortunately unable to
remain at home to receive you, we can, if you
please, complete the necessary arrangements
without waiting his return. Captain Brown
has already looked in upon us with the Emma's
bills of lading and the invoices, and I am quite
prepared to go through the accounts and hand
over the money to your safe keeping."

We—M. Paul and I— had a rather severe
morning's work over the voluminous accounts,
with all the mass of vouchers, letters, bills,
couched in every language written throughout
Northern Europe; but at last we came to a
satisfactory conclusion. A considerable sum was
due to Hallett and Jones, and this sum tallied,
within a few marks banco, with the amount of
my chiefs' estimate. The cashier was summoned.

"Now, monsieur, we can give you your
choice," said the young Dane, smiling good
humouredly, "how you will take the balance.
Gold, or bills on London I cannot at this
moment offer you; but silver, or Hamburg notes,
or Russian paper roubles, or notes of the Royal
Bank of Denmark, or Dutch coupons: to all
and any of these you are heartily welcome.
Shall we pay in silver rix-dollars? I only warn
you that the weight will prove rather
cumbrous."

"Why, yes," said I, hesitating, as I remembered
that a sack of no small size and a porter
would then become necessary to the conveyance
of the sum of which I was to be the temporary
custodian, and hastily computed 'the various
cares and annoyances inseparable from such
unwieldy treasures; "yes, I think I will take the
balance in Danish bank paper."

And, in Danish bank paper, the money was
duly paid over to me in exchange for my
receipt. The notes were securely lodged in
my big black leather pocket-book, steel chained
and patent locked, and always needfully kept in
an inner breast-pocket of my coat. My reason
for selecting Danish notes in preference to
Hamburg notes was, that as I was bound for
Copenhagen, where I had to inquire, as I have
previously said, respecting the eligible character
of certain investments, I was sure of being able
to exchange the notes for good bills on London,