“We'll divide it, if you like, and I'll stand a bottle of old Madeira. My old friend, Squire Vizard, has just sent it me. I'll just have a splash; dinner will be ready by then.” He bustled out of the room, but said, as he went, “I say, old man, open the hamper, and put two bottles just within the smile of the fire.” He then went upstairs, and plunged his head in cold water, to clear his faculties for the encounter. The friends sat down to dinner, and afterward to the Madeira, both gay and genial outside, but within full of design--their object being to pump one another. In the encounter at Homburg, Ashmead had an advantage; Poikilus thought himself unknown to Ashmead. But this time there was a change. Poikilus knew by this time that La Klosking had gone to Vizard Court. How she had known Severne was there puzzled him a good deal; but he had ended by suspecting Ashmead, in a vague way. The parties, therefore, met on even terms. Ashmead resolved to learn what he could about Severne, and Poikilus to learn what he could about Zoe Vizard and Mademoiselle Klosking. Ashmead opened the ball: “Been long here?” “Just come.” “Business?” “Yes. Want to see if there's any chance of my getting paid for that job.” “What job?” “Why, the Homburg job. Look here--I don't know why I should have any secrets from a good fellow like you; only you must not tell anybody else.” “Oh, honor bright!” “Well, then, I am a detective.” “Ye don't mean that?” “I'm Poikilus.” “Good heavens! Well, I don't care. I haven't murdered anybody. Here's your health, Poikilus. I say, you could tell a tale or two.” “That I could. But I'm out of luck this time. The gentleman that employed me has mizzled, and he promised me fifty pounds. I came down here in hopes of finding him. Saw him once in this neighborhood.” “Well, you won't find him here, I don't think. You must excuse me, but your employer is a villain. He has knocked a lady down, and nearly killed her.” “You don't say that?” “Yes; that beautiful lady, the singer, you saw in Homburg.” “What! the lady that said he should have his money?” “The same.” “Why, he must be mad.” “No. A scoundrel. _That is all.”_ “Then she won't give him his money after that.” “Not if I can help it. But if she likes to pay you your commission, I shall not object to that.” “You are a good fellow.” “What is more, I shall see her to-morrow, and I will put the question to her for you.” Poikilus was profuse in his thanks, and said he began to think it was his only chance. Then he had a misgiving. “I have no claim on the lady,” said he; “and I am afraid I have been a bad friend to her. I did not mean it, though, and the whole affair is dark to me.”