“The less you know the better, so long as you are convinced. You were eager to marry the girl without a penny; and what motive can I have for deceiving you? In fact, I think I have been a fool to tell you. We could let her get the money, and what chance would you have then? Plenty of young swells, with rhino of their own, would be after such a pretty girl with sixty thousand pounds. And I will tell you two things, since you seem to doubt me. In the first place, I shall insist upon ten thou. advanced upon my note of hand at five per cent. And again for your comfort, my mother since she heard of it won’t hear another word of you, beloved Pots, unless I can bring her round to it. She would naturally prefer a young soft fellow, with a fine place of his own, where she can go and govern, when she wants a little change, as she governs everywhere. So that will be all you get, old chap, by doubting yours truly. Good-night, my boy. I am sorry that I ever told you.” “Don’t be so hot, my friend. I never doubted you. All that I doubted was my own good luck. And upon my soul, Downy, if you had had such luck as I have, you would never place any more faith in it. Here, my dear fellow, have a Don Pintolado; there’s not such another weed to be got in London. And here’s a rare drop of old brandy, such as perhaps you never tasted. It’s as old as the hills, and as soft as oil. You must never put a drop of water with it. It stands me in two hundred and forty shillings a dozen, and I have never let any one see it but myself. What do you think of that now? Roll it on your tongue. The best liquor you ever nosed is not a patch upon it. You are a good judge, give me your opinion.” “I never tasted anything like it, Pots. Where the devil do you get it from?” “Ah, I’ll put you up to that some day. But now let us have a little quiet chat. You need not be afraid of it. Have another glass. You see I always take it in a very thin dock-glass, made on purpose for it. If it had not been for that I should have gone to the dogs long ago with all my troubles. However, let us hope for an end of them soon. Fifty thou. would set me straight, and I could get back the old place, and give up fast life, and turn quiet Country Squire. It is time for me to get out of all this racket, and stick to one or two solid friends like you. Now tell me, old chap, exactly what I am to do. I’ll give you any undertaking you think fit. Only, of course, we must keep it dark.” “Ah, and not be in any over-hurry;” Donovan Bulwrag breathed rings of blue serenity from the grey-edged auricula of his fine cigar, and then said slowly, “I remember some little box you used to have, about two miles beyond Hounslow.” “Yes, and I have got it still, because nobody would have it. They wanted to turn it into a poultry-breeding place when that craze was on, but they could not pay deposit. At any rate they didn’t; and I have it still on hand.”