“Is it waiting for an invitation I'd be, Abel? Is it expecting a card with ould Kraus's compliments?” said Dalton, laughing. “Sure, isn't the place open like the fish-market, or the ball-room, or the chapel, or any place of diversion? There, now; keep your temper, old boy. I tell ye, there's luck before ye! What d'ye think of that?” And, as he spoke, he drew forth one of the bills, and handed it across the counter; and then, after gloating, as it were, over the changed expression of the Jew's features, he handed a second, and a third. “These are good papers, Herr von Dalton; no better! The exchange, too, is in your favor; we are giving--let me see--ten and three-eighths 'Convenzions-Gelt'.” “To the devil I fling your three-eighths!” cried Dalton. “I never forgot the old song at school that says, 'Fractions drives me mad.'” “Ah, always droll,----always merry!” cackled out Abel. “How will you have these moneys?” “In a bag,----a good strong canvas-bag!” “Yes, to be sure, in a bag; but I was asking how you 'd have them. I mean, in what coin,--in what for 'Gelt.'” “Oh, that's it!” cried Dalton. “Well, give me a little of everything. Let me have 'Louis' to spend, and 'Gros-chen' to give the beggars. Bank-notes, too, I like; one feels no regretting parting with the dirty paper that neither jingles nor shines: and a few crown pieces, Abel; the ring of them on a table is like a brass band!” “So you shall,--so you shall, Herr von Dalton. Ha, ha, ha! you are the only man ever make me laugh!” “By my conscience, then, it's more than you deserve, Abel; for you've very often nearly made _me_ cry,” said Dalton, with a little sigh over the past, as he recalled it to his memory. The Jew did not either heed or hear the remark; for, having put away the remnant of his frugal breakfast, he now began a very intricate series of calculations respecting interest and exchange and commission, at which poor Dalton gazed in a most complete mystification. “Fourteen hundred and sixty-three, at ten three-eighths,--less cost of commission; I will not charge you the one per cent--” “Charge all that's fair, and no favor, old boy.” “I mean that I will not treat the Herr von Dalton like a stranger----” “I was going to say, treat me like a Christian,” said Dalton, laughing; “but maybe that's the most expensive thing going.” “Always droll,--always have his jest,” cackled Abel. “Now there's an agio on gold, you pay five kreutzers for every Louis.” “By George! I 'll take a ship-load of them at the same price.” “Ha! U mean you pay that over the value,” said the Jew. “Faix! I often promised to pay more,” said Dalton, sighing; “and what's worse, on stamped paper too!”