"It were hard indeed, sir, if that poor gratification were not afforded me," said Frank. "But now, sir, pray hear me--pray listen to me. Think of the misery you would inflict." "Stop now, and hear me," said the old money-lender quietly, though his lips quivered with pain. "Your name is Frank; now be frank with me. You are at the present time penniless, are you not?" Frank had hard work to suppress a groan as he bowed his head and thought of how, had he been given time, he could have paid every creditor in full, and had to spare, instead of his poor assets being more than half swallowed up in costs. "You came here expecting a stormy interview, did you not?" "I did!" said Frank. "To be sure! and now I am going to show you that old Grab-all is not so black a devil as he is painted." "Good heavens, sir!" cried Frank joyfully. "Stop a bit--stop a bit--don't be rash, young man; for perhaps I am not going to favour you in the way you may expect, though I do feel disposed to help you. Now look here: I suppose five hundred pounds would be a great help to you just now?" "It would start me in life again, sir," said Frank, sadly; "but I should not feel justified in commencing upon borrowed capital at high interest." "Did I say a word about borrowed capital or high interest?" "No, sir, but--" "Yes, yes--of course--I know--old Grind-'em will have sixty per cent, they say, eh? But look here, suppose I were to _give_ you five hundred pounds to start with!" "Give! give! Give me five hundred pounds in hard cash, sir! Mr Richards, why do you play with my feelings?" "Play, young man?" said the money-lender quietly. "I am not playing--I am in earnest. I tell you that I will give you, now, this minute, five hundred pounds. There," he said, "give me that cheque book," and he pointed to a safe in the wall. "I'll write you one now this instant; and with five hundred pounds you have the key to a fortune. You may die rich as I am, Frank Marr." "But you have a condition: you wish to buy something with this five hundred pounds, Mr Richards," said Frank sternly. "I only want five minutes of your time," said the old man. "What to do?" "To write half a dozen lines at my dictation." "And to whom?" "To my daughter." "Their purport?" "That you break with her, and set her free, now and for ever." "If I do," cried Frank fiercely, "may God in heaven bring down--"