"But I want twenty!" "Ah, so you do! Pity you don't want some wine! I've got some Madeiry as would--but wine ain't money, is it? There's a splendid picture, now--a Murillo: you might take that." "Pictures are not more money than wine; are they?" "Ain't they? That Murillo's worth ten pound, and any one would give you that for it. Ain't there no one you could sell it to? You see you're in such a hurry for the money, or you might offer it to the National Gallery, or some swell collecting of pictures might buy it, but you're so pressed. Tell you what you might do, though," said Mr. Scadgers, as though struck by a sudden inspiration: "you might pawn it." "How the deuce could I go lugging that picture about the streets to pawn it?" said Pringle testily. "No, to be sure! Stay, look here! I dare say Jinks wouldn't mind pawning it for you. Jinks, look here; just run with this round the corner, will you? Get as much as you can, you know." And without more ado, Mr. Jinks put on a reddish-black napless hat, tucked the picture under his arm, and started off. While he was gone, Mr. Scadgers asked Mr. Pringle what his name was, how long he had been in the office, where he lodged, and other home-thrusting questions; and presently Mr. Jinks returned without the picture, but with three sovereigns and a printed ticket, which he delivered to his master, saying, "Wouldn't do no more than three." "Three!" said Mr. Scadgers. "Well, that's nearer to twenty than we was, isn't it? Now, Mr. Pringle,"--taking a slip of stamped paper from his pocketbook--"just you sign your name at the bottom here. All correct, you see. Fifth of next month,--promise to pay,--value received,--and all the rest of it; and I'll hand you over sixteen pounds and the ticket; and when you get that picture out, you'll have a treasure." "Oh, curse the picture!" said Pringle ruefully. "Ah," said Mr. Scadgers, grinning, "that's what they all says. Cuss the picture! Well, if that ticket ain't any use to you, I don't mind giving you half a pound for it." "I thought you had only seven-and-sixpence left?" "No more I have, myself; but I might borrow half a pound from Jinks. What do you say? Ah, I thought so. Here, Jinks, put this little dockyment along with your other valuables. Here's the half pound, sir. Now let's look at your signature. George Townshend Pringle! Very nice. No relation to Mr. Townshend, of Austin Friars--the great Townshend?" "He's my uncle," said Pringle. "I'm named after him." "Indeed! named after him A very capital connexion. Good morning, sir! good morning! I'll look in upon you on the fifth."