four good tips for Newmarket. Chances for you to make a pile.”
“You are very generous,” sneered Glyddyr. “Your tips have not turned out so very rosy – so far.”
“Well, of course it’s speculation. Have a cigar?”
Glyddyr made an impatient gesture.
“Then I will. Give me an appetite for the dejooney.”
The speaker lit a strong cigar that had an East London aroma, and went on chatting as he lolled back in his chair, and played with his enormously thick watch-chain.
“A smoke always gives me an appetite; spoils some people’s. Well, you won’t take the tips?”
“No; I’ve no money for betting.”
“Happy to oblige you, dear boy. Eh? No! All right. Glad you are so independent. It’s going on bloomingly, then?”
“What do you mean?”
“The miller’s lovely daughter,” sang the visitor, laughingly. “I mean the stonemason’s.”
Glyddyr muttered an oath between his teeth.
“Hush! Don’t swear, dear boy – the waiter.”
For at that moment the man brought in a tray, busied himself for a time till all was ready, and left the room.
“That’s your sort,” said Glyddyr’s visitor, settling himself at the table. “Won’t join me, I suppose? Won’t have an echo?”
“What do you mean?”
“Second breakfast. Eh? No? All right. Hah! Very appetising after a long journey – confoundedly long journey. You do put up in such out of the way spots. Quite hard to find.”
“Then stop away.”
“No, thanks. Now look here, Glyddyr, dear boy, what’s the use of your cutting up rusty when we are obliged to row so much in the same boat?”
“Curse you! I’d like to throw you overboard.”
“Of course you would, my dear fellow, but you see you can’t. Rather an awkward remark though, that, when I’m coming for a cruise with you in the yacht – my yacht.”
Glyddyr crushed up the newspaper into a ball, and cast it across to the corner of the room.
“What’s the matter, old man? I say, what a delicious sole! Ever catch any on the yacht?”
The sound of Glyddyr’s teeth grating could be plainly heard.
“Be no good to throw me overboard to feed the fishes, my dear boy. I’m thoroughly well insured, both as to money – and protection,” he added meaningly. “Hope this fish was not fed in that peculiar way. Tlat! Capital coffee. Now then, talk. I can eat and listen. How is it going on with the girl?”
“Reuben Gellow, your insolence is insufferable.”
“My dear Gellow, I must have a thou, to-morrow,” said the visitor, mockingly. “Your words, dear boy, when you want money; the other when you don’t want money. What a contrast! Well, I don’t care. Capital butter this! It shows me that everything is progressing well with the pretty heiress, and that Parry Glyddyr, Esquire, will pay his debts like a gentleman. Come, old fellow, don’t twist about in your chair like a skinned eel.”
“Curse you, who skinned me?”
“Not I, dear boy. Half a dozen had had a turn at you, and that lovely epi – what-you-may-call-it of yours was hanging upon you in rags. I only stripped the rest off, so as to give you a chance to grow a new one, and I’m helping you to do it as fast as you can. Come, don’t cut up rough. Be civil, and I’ll keep you going in style so that you can marry her all right, and have two children and live happy ever after.”
“Look here,” said Glyddyr, getting up and pacing the room furiously, while his visitor calmly discussed his breakfast, “you have something under all this, so open it out.”
“No, dear boy, only the natural desire to see how you are getting on. You owe me – ”
“Curse what I owe you!”
“No, no, don’t do that. Pay it.”
“You know I cannot.”
“Till you’ve made a good marriage; and you cannot live in style and make a good marriage without my help, my dear Glyddyr.”
“You and your cursed fraternity hold plenty of security, so leave me in peace.”
“I will, dear boy; but I want my trifle of money, and you are not getting on as fast as I could wish, so I’ve come to help you.”
“Come to ruin me, you mean.”
“Wrong. I have my cheque book in my pocket, and if you want a few hundreds to carry on the war, here they are.”
“At the old rate,” sneered Glyddyr.
“No, my dear fellow. I must have a little more. The risk is big.”
“Yes. Might fail, and blow out my brains.”
“Ex-actly! How I do like this country cream.”
Glyddyr threw himself into his seat with a crash.
“That was all a metaphor,” he said bitterly.
“What was, dear boy?”
“About the Devil and Dr Faustus.”
“Of course it was. Why?”
“Faustus was some poor devil hard up, and the other was not a devil at all, but a confounded money-lender. It was a bill Faustus accepted, not a contract.”
“I daresay you are right, Glyddyr. Have a drop of brandy? Eh? No? Well, there’s nothing like a chasse with a good breakfast, and this is really prime.”
“Well, I’ll grin and bear it till I’m free,” said Glyddyr. “You want to know how I am getting on. You need not stay.”
“But I want a change, and I can help you, perhaps.”
“You’ll queer the whole affair if you stay here. Once it is so much as suspected that I am not as well off as I was – ”
“That you are an utter beggar – I mean a rum beggar.”
“Do you want me to wring your neck?”
“The neck of the goose that lays the golden eggs? No. They don’t kill geese that way.”
” – The whole affair will be off.”
“Old man’s a rum one, isn’t he?”
“How do you know?”
“How do I know?” said Gellow, with a quiet chuckle. “That’s my business. I know everything about you, my dear boy. I have a great personal interest in your proceedings,
