"Pray, do you think there is any truth in the stories about people in former times selling themselves to the devil?" "Ugh," answered the _roué_, much too wise ever to be surprised. "Have you any personal interest in the question?" "I--no; but a friend of mine has just received a letter from Levy, and he flew out of the room in the most extra-or-di-na-ry manner--just as people did in those days when their time was up! And Levy, you know, is--" "Not quite so great a fool as the other dark gentleman to whom you would compare him; for Levy never made such bad bargains for himself. Time up! No doubt it is. I should not like to be in your friend's shoes." "Shoes!" said Spendquick, with a sort of shudder: "you never saw a neater fellow, nor one, to do him justice, who takes more time in dressing than he does in general. And, talking of shoes--he rushed out with the right boot on the left foot, and the left boot on the right. Very mysterious." And a third time Lord Spendquick shook his head--and a third time that head seemed to him wondrous empty. CHAPTER XXV. But Frank had arrived in Curzon-street--leapt from the cabriolet--knocked at the door, which was opened by a strange-looking man in a buff waistcoat and corduroy smalls. Frank gave a glance at this personage--pushed him aside--and rushed up-stairs. He burst into the drawing-room--no Beatrice was there. A thin elderly man, with a manuscript book in his hands, appeared engaged in examining the furniture and making an inventory, with the aid of Madame di Negra's upper servant. The thin man stared at Frank, and touched the hat which was on his head. The servant, who was a foreigner, approached Frank, and said, in broken English, that his lady did not receive--that she was unwell, and kept her room. Frank thrust a sovereign into the servant's hand, and begged him to tell Madame di Negra that Mr. Hazeldean entreated the honor of an interview. As soon as the servant vanished on this errand, Frank seized the thin man by the arm: "What is this? an execution?" "Yes, sir." "For what sum?" "Fifteen hundred and forty-seven pounds. We are the first in possession." "There are others, then?" "Or else, sir, we should never have taken this step. Most painful to our feelings, sir; but these foreigners are here to-day, and gone to-morrow. And--" The servant re-entered. Madame di Negra would see Mr. Hazeldean. Would he walk up-stairs? Frank hastened to obey this summons. Madame di Negra was in a small room which was fitted up as a boudoir. Her eyes showed the traces of recent tears, but her face was composed, and even rigid, in its haughty though mournful expression. Frank, however, did not pause to notice her countenance--to hear her dignified salutation. All his timidity was gone. He saw but the woman whom he loved, in distress and humiliation. As the door closed on him, he flung himself at her feet. He caught at her hand--the skirt of her robe.