Kraus appeared to reflect for a few minutes, and then said, “If a leetle sum will do--” “Faix! it will not. I want five hundred Naps., at the very least.” Kraus threw down his pen, and stared at him without speaking. “One would think from your face, Abel, that I was asking for a loan of the National Debt. I said five hundred Naps.!” Abel shook his head mournfully, and merely muttered “Ja! ja!” to himself. “We will look over de account, Herr von Dalton,” said he, at last; “perhaps I am wrong, I no say, I am sure; but I tink--dat is, I believe--you overdraw very much your credit.” “Well, supposing I did; is it the first time?” said Dalton, angrily. “Ain't I as good a man now as I was before?” “You are a very goot man, I know well; a very goot and a very pleasant man; but you know de old German proverb, 'Das Gut ist nicht Gelt.'” “I never heard it till now,” muttered Peter, sulkily; “but if a robber in this country put a pistol to your head, he 'd be sure to have a proverb to justify him! But to come to the point,----can I have the money?” “I fear very mush--No!” was the dry response. “No,--is it?” cried Dalton, starting up from his seat; “did you say no?” Kraus nodded twice, slowly and deliberately. “Then bad luck to the rap ever you'll see more of _my_ money,” cried Peter, passionately. “You old Jewish thief, I ought to have known you long ago; fifty, sixty, seventy per cent I was paying for the use of my own cash, and every bill I gave as good as the bank paper! Ain't you ashamed of yourself, tell me that,--ain't you downright ashamed of yourself?” “I tink not; I have no occasions for shame,” said the other, calmly. “Faix! I believe you there,” retorted Dalton. “Your line of life doesn't offer many opportunities of blushing. But if I can't bring you to know shame, maybe I can teach you to feel sorrow. Our dealing is ended from this day out. Peter Dalton does n't know you more! He never saw you! he never heard of your name! D'ye mind me now? None of your boasting among the English here that you have Mr. Dalton's business. If I hear of your saying it, it's not a contradiction will satisfy me. Understand me well--it's not to leave a mark of friendship that I 'll come in here again!” The fierce tone in which Dalton said these words, and the gesture he made with a tremendous walking-stick, were certainly well calculated to excite Abel's terrors, who, opening a little movable pane of the window, looked out into the street, to assure himself of succor in case of need.