Another of the props which upheld him from ruin had snapped beneath him.
There were three letters lying beside the telegram.

He glanced through them, but there was no consolation in any of them.

One was from a bank manager, informing him that his account was somewhat overdrawn.
Another from Lloyd's Insurance Agency, pointing out that the policies on two of his vessels would lapse unless paid within a certain date.
The clouds were gathering very darkly over the African firm, yet the old man bore up against misfortune with dauntless courage.

He sat alone in his little room, with his head sunk upon his breast, and his thatched eye-brows drawn down over his keen grey eyes.

It was clear to him that the time had come when he must enlighten his son as to the true state of their affairs.