Paul merely bowed. They were not alone in the office; one of the other clerks, a young man of the name of Morisson, was standing at the lawyer's desk waiting for further orders. "What I want you to do, Lisimon, is to remain here till half-past five and receive the money from my client. You will give him an acknowledgment for the sum, and you will place the money, whether it should be in notes or gold, in this small cash-box, of which I will leave you the key. I shall also give you the key of the door of this office, which you will carefully lock on leaving the place. As there is no other communication, all will be perfectly secure. You understand?" "Completely, Mr. Craig," said Paul. "I thought you would be able to do this little bit of business for me," replied the lawyer, rising and locking his desk; "here are the keys," he added, handing Paul the key of the door and the smaller one belonging to the cash-box; "you will keep the office key in your possession until you see me to-morrow morning. Be very careful of it, for I have no duplicate. It's now half-past four, so I have not a minute to lose. You'll find my client, Mr. Graham, a curious countryfied old fellow, Lisimon, but I've no doubt you'll be able to manage him. Good afternoon!" Silas left the office, followed by the clerk, Morisson; and Paul, taking up one of the New Orleans papers, prepared to await the expected visitor. The client arrived, punctual to his appointment, at half-past five. He was an elderly man, a planter, whose estate lay at a distance of several hundred miles from New Orleans, and who had the highest opinion of Silas Craig's professional and moral character. "A worthy man," he would say, shaking his head wisely, when speaking of the money-lending lawyer; "a moral man, a church-going man, and a credit to New Orleans. I am sorry there are not more to follow his pious example." Paul received the money, which was in the shape of a roll of dollar bills. "I have the numbers of the bills in my pocket-book," said the old man, as he handed the packet to the Mexican; "I'm rather a cautious old fellow, you know, my dear sir." Paul wrote an acknowledgment of the sum, and handed it to Silas Craig's client. "Perfectly correct, perfectly correct, my dear sir," Mr. Graham muttered, as he read it over--'Received of John Graham, fifteen thousand dollars'--dated and signed. "Thank you, sir, and good evening." Paul summoned the mulatto lad to show Mr. Graham out, and then, after locking the money in the cash-box--a small metal casket, which might have easily been carried in the ample pocket of Paul's loose linen coat--he left the office, and double-locked the door behind him. "I think that's all right, Marcus," he said to the boy. "Iss, massa." "You sleep in this office, don't you?" "Iss, massa." "Then there's no likelihood of any one entering that room without your being aware of it." "No, massa; not unless Marcus was very deaf."