"But you don't mean what you say, Braham?" said his lordship, anxiously.

"I never joke on money matters, my lord; I've a couple of sheriff's officers and a cab across the road, my lord. If you will take the trouble to walk across to the window you can see them."

Lord Maudlaine took a step across towards the window; but he was back in an instant.

"But I say, Braham," he exclaimed, "this is getting serious--it is, indeed--and you mustn't, you know; 'pon my word, you mustn't. Think of the scandal and the expense; and you won't do yourself any good, besides ruining me."

"What do you mean by ruining you?" said the Jew, for the young n.o.bleman's earnestness was such as no dread of a spunging-house, pure and simple, would have evoked--"what's in the wind?--what do you mean?"

"Well, I tell you, don't I? I've got something in hand--something good, you know."

"What is it?"

There was a few minutes' silence as, driven to bay by his necessities, the scion of the not very n.o.ble house stood frowning and biting his lips.

"Just as you like," said the Jew, coolly. "I don't want you to tell me." And he again tried to leave, but his lordship stayed him.

"Now, look here," said the Jew again. "I've always been a friend to you, Lord Maudlaine, and I'll give you one more chance. What did you go to Italy for?"

There was no answer; and as his lordship stood with his back to the door, the visitor walked across to the window, as if to signal to one of the men waiting with the cab.

"Well, there," exclaimed his lordship, "to get out of your way."

The Jew smiled.

"I expected as much. And now, why did you come back?"

"To--because--Well, there; it's connected with the--with the--the good thing I told you of."

"Now, look here, young man," said Abraham, without the "A," "are we to be friends or enemies?"

"Friends, of course," said the young n.o.bleman, scowling.

"Then, look here: I must have perfect openness. Just show me that this is something genuine--something worth waiting for, and I'll wait--of course, for a consideration."

He waited for some response to his words, but none was forthcoming.

"I'm not going to be treated like this!" exclaimed the visitor, with mock anger. "I'll soon--"

"There, there--stop, and I'll tell you all about it. It is worth waiting for."

His lordship stopped short again, and his by no means intellectual countenance displayed strongly the shame and humiliation he felt.

"Well?" said the Jew.

"It's about a marriage--a matrimonial affair."

The Jew looked at him as if he would read his every thought.

"Plenty of money?" he said, at last.

"One of the richest heiresses in England."

"Are you sure of that?" said Braham; "or has some foreign countess got hold of you again?"

"Sure? Yes!" cried Maudlaine, excitedly. "The father has been living out of England for years past at the rate of a couple of thousand a year, and his income's at least twenty. All been increasing and piling up ever since."

The Jew again looked piercingly at the young man; but it was plain enough that the ability was not in him to invent this as a fiction upon the spur of the moment.

"Well," said the interlocutor, "go on. Have you any chance?"

"Yes; of course I have," said Maudlaine.

"Father agreeable?"

"Yes!"

"Lady?"

"Well, yes--pretty well; but that's all right, I tell you."

"Meet them abroad?"

"Yes."

"Have they come back to town?"

"To England--not town."

"Humph!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the visitor, still narrowly scanning his victim.

"And that's why you came back?"

"Of course."

"Now, look here, Maudlaine," said the Jew, fiercely, "I'm not a man to be trifled with. I was your slave once, and you did not forget to show it. You are mine now, and you must not be surprised at my turn, now it has come, being brought strongly before your attention. But I'll be frank with you: I lend money for interest. Well and good: I'd rather wait and let you pay me that money and that interest than have to arrest you. I don't want to get a bad name amongst your cla.s.s. Now I've not much confidence in you as to promises to pay; but I'll believe your word of honour. Is all this true?"

"On my word of honour, yes!" said Maudlaine, angrily.

"Who is the lady, then?" The Viscount flushed deeply, bit his lips, and was silent; for to answer this question seemed to him too great a humiliation. "Who is the lady?" was asked again. There was no answer.

"I suppose you don't want my help, then?" said the Jew. "Just as you like. Prove to me that this is worth my while to wait--say six or twelve months--and I'll lend you a few hundreds to go on with. But, there, I'm not anxious; just as you like. Shall I call up the men?"

"Confound you, no!" exclaimed the young man, angrily. "She is the daughter of a wealthy baronet, of Lincolnshire. Now are you satisfied?"

"No," said the Jew, taking out pencil and pocket-book; "I want his name."

"Good old family," said the Viscount, hastily. "Only child. I am invited down there, and the baronet is quite willing. Will that do?"

"Name--name--name!" exclaimed the creditor, impatiently.