"'"Is it much?"
"'"Half-a-crown."
"'"What!"
"'"Half-a-crown."
"'"It's a poor joke, de Montmorency; a poor joke."
"'"I think it's a capital joke. Now, if, as I came along the street, I lost the half-a-crown, I'd consider it a poor joke. I was looking over an old waistcoat, when, hey presto! out drops half-a-crown. I'd like to know what you'd call that, if not a good joke."
"'The speaker was a short little man, with dark eyes and hair, and a swarthy southern complexion.
"'"Ah, De Montmorency, if I had only such spirits as yours!"
"'"It isn't the best, at all, Belmore. It's only a quartern of London gin. Please observe this is no joke. No; look here, Belmore, you mustn't be offended if I have taken a liberty. I have long been wishing you would dine with me; but I've been so cruelly hard up I couldn't do the thing decently at an outside place. But, as we are both Bohemians, I've ventured to order the rag-and-bone merchant in the Lane to send over a peck of coals and a bundle of wood. I waited to see the boy start with the coal and wood before I left the place; and then I ran off and got a few little things. So I'm going-if you will not think it a liberty-to light up a fire here and cook a bit of luncheon, and ask you to have a bit with me, Belmore. You are not offended?"
"'"If, De Montmorency, it were any one but you-"
"'"Ah, that is right, my dear Belmore; that is right! That young scamp must have stopped to play with other boys. Ah, here he is! You young scamp! Put it there on the hearthstone, and, look you, here's a penny for yourself. Now vanish! Well, my dear Belmore, I don't think much of our coal merchant. When I am Comptroller of the Household I shall not give him the contract. I shall be very corrupt in those days. I shall take bribes-when I can. Now there is a piece of undesirable slate. If either of us had young children that slate might be useful in forming their young minds and making them familiar with figures."
"'"Thank Heaven we have no children."
"'"Ay, ay, ay! Have it as you will, have it as you will. No doubt you are right. Now you don't happen to have a frying-pan?"
"'"No, I have nothing of the kind."
"'"Never mind; we'll toast the rashers and fortunately a toasting-fork is within reach."
"'"There is not one in this place."
"'"I'll make a capital one out of three pieces of this wood, with the aid of string. I think this fire will light now. It is beautifully designed and excellently built. I am a connoisseur in fires. I have been accused of resorting to bludgeon tactics. But I don't care what they may call my tactics, they always succeed. First you get a few pieces of paper-if they are greasy, all so much the better-and you roll them up loosely, as I did the piece that came round the rashers. Then you put on as much wood as you judge sufficient, taking care to cross-hatch the pieces, as an artist would say. Then put on more wood loosely until you think there is too much. After that put on more wood until you are perfectly sure there is too much. When you have done this, lay on eight pieces of coal neither larger nor smaller than a bantam's egg, and upon these eight lay three pieces as big as a turkey's egg. After that set fire to your paper, as I do. I will now, while the fire is kindling and clearing, make our toasting-fork."
"'He rose from his knees before the grate, and proceeded to splice two thin pieces of firewood, one on either side of a thick piece, having first cut a slanting bit out of the ends of the thinner ones where he applied them to the thick one. These prongs he had only to sharpen.
"'While De Montmorency was engaged in making his toasting-fork, Belmore, attracted by the unfamiliar blaze and glow in that chill room, drew the soap-box to the fire, and sat down to enjoy the heat.
"'Nothing ages a man more quickly than cold and hunger, and as Belmore sat before the mounting flames he looked seventy.
"'"There is no fender," said De Montmorency; "but I'll tell you what we'll do. We'll put the tea-pot down on the ground, take the lid off, and put a saucer on the top of the teapot. That will make a capital gravy-dish to catch the rich nectar from the rashers.'
"'All this time Belmore never moved or spoke. With his thin hands hanging down over big knees, he simply gave himself to the animal enjoyment of warmth, a pleasure he had not known for a long time.
"'At last the toasting began; and now, for the first time, the attention of Belmore was withdrawn from the fire to be concentrated on the food. He had tasted food since he had felt the heat of a fire, but that food had been the simplest and most scanty. Convicts would have mutinied if they had been kept on such a scale as the poor gentleman had been obliged to adopt for a month; that is, if convicts, after a month of such diet, would have had strength enough to lift up their hands in menace.
"'At length the first piece of bacon was toasted. With a large pocket-knife De Montmorency cut off a slice of bread from a loaf, which had formed one of the parcels he had brought in; and having placed this on the chair-table, he removed everything else. Then he took up the saucer from the fire and put that on the table, and dropped the hissing crisp bacon into the rich straw-coloured gravy. He poured some gin out of the bottle into a cup, and added water from a jug.
"'"You go on and eat now," the visitor said; "I'll cook and serve, and will naturally wait. I'll make a gravy-dish of a slice of bread this time. You don't object to a slice of bread soaked in red-hot dripping of toasted bacon? Of course you don't. I should like to see the man with a wholesome appetite who did. Pretend the bacon is fish, and that we have lent our fish-forks to the bishop who lives on the landing below this, and that you have to eat your fish with a fork and a piece of bread, and then all you've got to do is to fancy my knife is an old-fashioned fork, and there is nothing more to be desired."
"'As Belmore had cut off the first piece of bacon and was raising it to his lips, someone knocked at the door. Belmore put down the bit untasted, and said, in a tremulous voice: "De Montmorency, will you ask him to leave me in peace, or tell me I must go? Ask him to spare me or send me away."
"'De Montmorency opened the door softly and looked out.
"'"Is Mr. Belmore in?" asked a very low voice.
"'"Yes," answered De Montmorency. "May I ask what is the nature of your business?" – he kept the door partly closed so that the man outside could not see in-"because Mr. Belmore is engaged at present."
"'"I want to see him on very particular business indeed."
"'"Of what nature?"
"'"Well, I am a lawyer."
"'"If it is anything about the rent," said Belmore, "I am willing to go, but I cannot pay; nor do I think I shall be able to pay next week."
"'"As Mr. Belmore has spoken of paying rent, I may as well tell you at once that I am in a position to say he can pay it now."
"'"No, no, no!" cried the poor gentleman; "I really haven't any money."
"'"But I will pay it for him, with the greatest pleasure. I have very good news for Mr. Belmore, if I may see him."
"'"Good news?" repeated De Montmorency. "Did I understand you to say you have good news for Mr. Belmore?"
"'"Unquestionably. Very good news indeed."
"'"As Mr. Belmore is very particularly engaged at present, would it not be better if he called upon you at your office in half an hour?"
"'"Yes, that will suit admirably. You are a friend of Mr. Belmore?"
"'"Oh yes; I think I may say I am."
"'"Then will you allow me the privilege of a few moments' conversation with you, sir?"
"'"Certainly." And De Montmorency went out on the landing and closed the door.
"'He found there a tall stoutish man of middle age and very dark complexion. The stranger moved a few paces from the door, and then spoke in a very low, confidential, and friendly voice. "My name is Jackson. I am senior partner of the firm of Jackson and Connington, Lothbury. You are a friend of Mr.