“Rogue, rogue! bad boy!” said Mr. Huddlestone, shaking his finger. “I am no precisian, if you come to that; I always hated a precisian; but I never lost hold of something better through it all. I have been a bad boy, Mr. Cassilis; I do not seek to deny that; but it was after my wife’s death, and you know, with a widower, it’s a different thing: sinful—I won’t say no; but there is a gradation, we shall hope. And talking of that—Hark!” he broke out suddenly, his hand raised, his fingers spread, his face racked with interest and terror. “Only the rain, bless God!” he added, after a pause, and with indescribable relief. For some seconds he lay back among the pillows like a man near to fainting; then he gathered himself together, and, in somewhat tremulous tones, began once more to thank me for the share I was prepared to take in his defence. “One question, sir,” said I, when he had paused. “Is it true that you have money with you?” He seemed annoyed by the question, but admitted with reluctance that he had a little. “Well,” I continued, “it is their money they are after, is it not? Why not give it up to them?” “Ah!” replied he, shaking his head, “I have tried that already, Mr. Cassilis; and alas that it should be so! but it is blood they want.” “Huddlestone, that’s a little less than fair,” said Northmour. “You should mention that what you offered them was upwards of two hundred thousand short. The deficit is worth a reference; it is for what they call a cool sum, Frank. Then, you see, the fellows reason in their clear Italian way; and it seems to them, as indeed it seems to me, that they may just as well have both while they’re about it—money and blood together, by George, and no more trouble for the extra pleasure.” “Is it in the pavilion?” I asked. “It is; and I wish it were in the bottom of the sea instead,” said Northmour; and then suddenly—“What are you making faces at me for?” he cried to Mr. Huddlestone, on whom I had unconsciously turned my back. “Do you think Cassilis would sell you?” Mr. Huddlestone protested that nothing had been further from his mind. “It is a good thing,” retorted Northmour in his ugliest manner. “You might end by wearying us. What were you going to say?” he added, turning to me. “I was going to propose an occupation for the afternoon,” said I. “Let us carry that money out, piece by piece, and lay it down before the pavilion door. If the _carbonari_ come, why, it’s theirs at any rate.” “No, no,” cried Mr. Huddlestone; “it does not, it cannot belong to them! It should be distributed _pro rata_ among all my creditors.” “Come now, Huddlestone,” said Northmour, “none of that.” “Well, but my daughter,” moaned the wretched man. “Your daughter will do well enough. Here are two suitors, Cassilis and I, neither of us beggars, between whom she has to choose. And as for yourself, to make an end of arguments, you have no right to a farthing, and, unless I’m much mistaken, you are going to die.”