The inspector from the fire office--surveyor, by-the-bye, they called
him--duly came. Wills described him as not very pleasant in his manners.
I derived the impression that he was so exceedingly dry, that if _he_
ever takes fire, he must burn out, and can never otherwise be
extinguished.
Next day, I received a letter from the secretary, to say that the said
surveyor had reported great additional risk from fire, and that the
directors, at their meeting next Tuesday, would settle the extra amount
of premium to be paid.
Thereupon I thought the matter was becoming complicated, and wrote a
common-sense note to the secretary (which I begged might be read to the
directors), saying that I was quite prepared to pay any extra premium,
but setting forth the plain state of the case. (I did not say that the
Lord Chief Justice, the Chief Baron, and half the Bench were coming;
though I felt a temptation to make a joke about burning them all.)
Finally, this morning comes up the secretary to me (yesterday having
been the great Tuesday), and says that he is requested by the directors
to present their compliments, and to say that they could not think of
charging for any additional risk at all; feeling convinced that I would
place the gas (which they considered to be the only danger) under the
charge of one competent man. I then explained to him how carefully and
systematically that was all arranged, and we parted with drums beating
and colours flying on both sides.
Ever faithfully.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready]
TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _Saturday Evening, Dec. 13th_, 1856.