"You may fancy," pursued the Tinker, "that ve ain't perfectly acvainted with your history, but to prove that ve are, I'll just rub up your memory. Did you ever hear tell of a gemman as murdered Doctor Lamb, the famous halchemist o' Queen Bess's time, and, havin' drank the 'lixir vich the doctor had made for hisself, has lived ever since? Did you ever hear tell of such a person, I say?" Auriol gazed at him in astonishment. "What idle tale are you inventing?" he said at length. "It is no idle tale," replied the Tinker boldly. "Ve can bring a vitness as'll prove the fact--a livin' vitness." "What witness?" cried Auriol. "Don't you reckilect the dwarf as used to serve Doctor Lamb?" rejoined the Tinker. "He's alive still; and ve calls him Old Parr, on account of his great age." "Where is he?--what has become of him?" demanded Auriol. "Oh, ve'll perduce him in doo time," replied the Tinker cunningly. "But tell me where the poor fellow is?" cried Auriol. "Have you seen him since last night? I sent him to a public-house at Kensington, but he has disappeared from it, and I can discover no traces of him." "He'll turn up somewhere--never fear," rejoined the Tinker. "But now, sir, that ve fairly understands each other, are you agreeable to our terms? You shall give us an order for the money, and ve'll undertake, on our parts, not to mislest you more." "The pocket-book must be delivered up to me if I assent," said Auriol, "and the poor dwarf must be found." "Vy, as to that, I can scarcely promise," replied the Tinker; "there's a difficulty in the case, you see. But the pocket-book'll never be brought aginst you--you may rest assured o' that." "I must have it, or you get nothing from me," cried Auriol. "Here's a bit o' paper as come from the pocket-book," said Ginger. "Would you like to hear wot's written upon it? Here are the words: 'How many crimes have I to reproach myself with! How many innocents have I destroyed! And all owing to my fatal compact with----'" "Give me that paper," cried Auriol, rising, and attempting to snatch it from the dog-fancier. Just as this moment, and while Ginger retreated from Auriol, the door behind him was noiselessly opened--a hand was thrust through the chink--and the paper was snatched from his grasp. Before Ginger could turn round, the door was closed again. "Halloa! What's that?" he cried. "The paper's gone!" "The hand again!" cried the Sandman, in alarm. "See who's in the passage--open the door--quick!" Ginger cautiously complied, and, peeping forth, said-- "There's no one there. It must be the devil. I'll have nuffin' more to do wi' the matter." "Poh! poh! don't be so chicken-'arted!" cried the Tinker. "But come what may, the gemman shan't stir till he undertakes to pay us three hundred pounds." "You seek to frighten me in vain, villain," cried Auriol, upon whom the recent occurrence had not been lost. "I have but to stamp my foot, and I can instantly bring assistance that shall overpower you."