"I'll make out that in an hour's time. They'll tell me at the houshe who the shentleman wazh." "And--upon my soul that's true--I owe the people there something too; it can't be much--it isn't much. And, Levi, like a good fellow--by Heaven, I'll _never_ forget it to you, if you'll think of something. You've pulled me through so often; I am sure there's good-nature in you; you wouldn't see a fellow you've known so long driven to the wall and made a beggar of, without--without thinking of something." Levi looked down, with his hands in his pockets, and whistled to himself, and Sir Richard gazed on his vulgar features as if his life or death depended upon every variation of their expression. "You know," says Levi, looking up and swaying his shoulders a little, "the old chap can't do no more. He's taken a share in that Austrian contract, and he'll want his capital, every pig. I told you lasht time. Wouldn't Lonclushe give you a lift?" "Not he. He'd rather give me a shove under." "Well, they tell me you and him wazh very thick; and your uncle'sh man, Blount, knowshe him, and can just ashk him, from himself, mind, not from you." "For money?" exclaimed Richard. "Not at a--all," drawled the Jew impatiently. "Lishen--mind. The old fellow, your friend----" "He's out of town," interrupted Richard. "No, he'sh not. I shaw him lasht night. You're a--all wrong. He'sh not Mr. David Harden, if that'sh what you mean. He'sh a better friend, and he'll leave you a lot of tin when he diesh--an old friend of the family--and if all goeshe shmooth he'll come and have a talk with you fashe to fashe, and tell you all his plansh about you, before a week'sh over. But he'll be at hish lasht pound for five or six weeksh to come, till the firsht half-million of the new shtock is in the market; and he shaid, 'I can't draw out a pound of my balanshe, but if he can get Lonclushe's na--me, I'll get him any shum he wantsh, and bear Lonclushe harmlesh.'" "I don't think I can," said Sir Richard; "I can't be quite sure, though. It is just possible he might." "Well, let Blount try," said he. There was another idea also in Mr. Levi's head. He had been thinking whether the situation might not be turned to some more profitable account, for him, than the barren agency for the "friend of the family," who "lent out money gratis," like Antonio; and if he did not "bring down the rate of usance," at all events, deprived the Shylocks of London, in one instance at least, of their fair game. "If he won't do that, there'sh but one chansh left." "What is that?" asked Sir Richard, with a secret flutter at his heart. It was awful to think of himself reduced to his last chance, with his recent experience of what a chance is.