he; “but how would you propose to get it back again?”
“That would be at your convenience,” said Mr Palliser, who hardly knew how to put himself on a proper footing with his companion, so that he might offer to do something effectual for the man’s aid.
“I never have any such convenience,” said Burgo. “Who were those women whose tubs always had holes at the bottom of them? My tub always has such a hole.”
“You mean the daughters of Danaus,” said Mr Palliser.
“I don’t know whose daughters they were, but you might just as well lend them all eight hundred pounds apiece.”
“There were so many of them,” said Mr Palliser, trying a little joke. “But as you are only one I shall be most happy, as I said before, to be of service.”
They were now walking slowly together up towards the hills, and near to them they heard a step. Upon this, Burgo turned round.
“Do you see that fellow?” said he. Mr Palliser, who was somewhat shortsighted, said that he did not see him. “I do, though. I don’t know his name, but they have sent him out from the hotel with me, to see what I do with myself. I owe them six or seven hundred francs, and they want to turn me out of the house and not let me take my things with me.”
“That would be very uncomfortable,” said Mr Palliser.
“It would be uncomfortable, but I shall be too many for them. If they keep my traps they shall keep me. They think I’m going to blow my brains out. That’s what they think. The man lets me go far enough off to do that,—so long as it’s nowhere about the house.”
“I hope you’re not thinking of such a thing?”
“As long as I can help it, Mr Palliser, I never think of anything.” The stranger was now standing near to them,—almost so near that he might hear their words. Burgo, perceiving this, walked up to him, and, speaking in bad French, desired him to leave them. “Don’t you see that I have a friend with me?”
“Oh! a friend,” said the man, answering in bad English. “Perhaps de friend can advance moneys?”
“Never mind what he can do,” said Burgo. “You do as you are bid, and leave me.”
Then the gentleman from the hotel retreated down the hill, but Mr Palliser, during the rest of the interview, frequently fancied that he heard the man’s footfall at no great distance.
They continued to walk on up the hill very slowly, and it was some time before Mr Palliser knew how to repeat his offer.
“So Lady Glencora is here?” Burgo said again.
“Yes, she is here. It was she who asked me to come to you,” Mr Palliser answered. Then they both walked on a few steps in silence, for neither of them knew how to address the other.
“By George!—isn’t it odd,” said Burgo, at last, “that you and I, of all men in the world, should be walking together here at Baden? It’s not only that you’re the richest man in London, and that I’m the poorest, but—; there are other things, you know, which make it so funny.”
“There have been things which make me and my wife very anxious to give you aid.”
“And have you considered, Mr Palliser, that those things make you the very man in the world,—indeed, for the matter of that, the only man in the world,—from whom I can’t take aid. I would have taken it all if I could have got it,—and I tried hard.”
“I know you have been disappointed, Mr Fitzgerald.”
“Disappointed! By G––––! yes. Did you ever know any man who had so much right to be disappointed as I have? I did love her, Mr Palliser. Nay, by heavens! I do love her. Out here I will dare to say as much even to you. I shall never try to see her again. All that is over, of course. I’ve been a fool about her as I have been about everything. But I did love her.”
“I believe it, Mr Fitzgerald.”
“It was not altogether her money. But think what it would have been to me, Mr Palliser. Think what a chance I had, and what a chance I lost. I should have been at the top of everything,—as now I am at the bottom. I should not have spent that. There would have been enough of it to have saved me. And then I might have done something good instead of crawling about almost in fear of that beast who is watching us.”
“It has been ordered otherwise,” said Mr Palliser, not knowing what to say.
“Yes; it has been ordered, with a vengeance! It seems to have been ordered that I’m to go to the devil; but I don’t know who gave the orders, and I don’t know why.”
Mr Palliser had not time to explain to his friend that the orders had been given, in a very peremptory way, by himself, as he was anxious to bring back the conversation to his own point. He wished to give some serviceable, and, if possible, permanent aid to the poor ne’er-do-well; but he did not wish to talk more than could be helped about his own wife.
“There is an old saying, which you will remember well,” said he, “that the way to good manners is never too late.”
“That’s nonsense,” said Burgo. “It’s too late when the man feels the knot round his neck at the Old Bailey.”
“Perhaps not, even then. Indeed, we may say, certainly not, if the man be still able to take the right way. But I don’t want to preach to you.”
“It wouldn’t do any good, you know.”
“But I do want to be of service to you. There is something of truth in what you say. You have been disappointed; and I, perhaps, of all men am the most bound to come to your assistance now that you are in need.”
“How can I take it from you?” said Burgo, almost crying.
“You shall take it from her!”
“No;—that would be worse; twenty times worse. What! take her money, when she would not give me herself!”
“I do not see why you should not borrow her money,—or mine. You shall call it which you will.”
“No; I won’t have it.”
“And what will you do then?”
“What will I do? Ah! That’s the question. I don’t know what I will do. I have the key of my bedroom in my pocket, and I will go to bed tonight. It’s not very often that I look forward much beyond that.”
“Will you let me call on you, tomorrow?”
“I don’t see what good it will do? I shan’t get up till late, for fear they should shut the room against me. I might as well have as much out of them as I can. I think I shall say I’m ill, and keep my bed.”
“Will you take a few napoleons?”
“No; not a rap. Not from you. You are the first man from whom I ever refused to borrow money, and I should say that you’ll be about the last to offer to lend it me.”
“I
