Mr Lawrence looked very well; his colour was fresh, his eyes carried the light which nature intended them to take, but which his hand was perpetually seeking to extinguish by draughts of strong liquors. He had been extremely temperate for three days, and his resolution was producing its fruits in his general appearance. It is indeed surprising how short is the period asked for by Nature even from men who live harder and drink harder than Mr Lawrence, to restore to them as much of their healthy old good looks as in some cases makes them almost irrecognisable. "Good morning, Mr Lawrence," said Mr Greyquill, making the gentleman a low bow. "I may take it that you're going to the ship which I am pleased to hear Captain Acton has given you the command of." "You are very kind, sir, to take an interest in my affairs," answered Mr Lawrence with slight sarcasm. "I think I have some reason, Mr Lawrence," answered Mr Greyquill, drooping his head to one side, and looking at the other with a confidential and familiar expression which was scarcely a smile, but which teased the hot blood of Mr Lawrence as though the look masked an insult. Mr Lawrence viewed him in silence. "I may trust, at all events," continued the money-lender, "now that you are in receipt of money--and if the terms have been correctly named to me they speak very highly in favour of Captain Acton's generosity--that you will give my debt your immediate attention, and that if you cannot pay all, you will pay as much as I have a right to expect from the amount you receive." "You shall be paid, sir," said Mr Lawrence. "It would be convenient to me if you would fix a day for the first payment if you cannot pay the whole," said Mr Greyquill. "I shall not be able to pay you anything this side my first command of the _Minorca_. If I hand you the sum of twenty-five guineas after my return, that is, when I am paid off by Captain Acton, I believe you will not have much reason to complain, sir." Mr Greyquill shrugged his shoulders. "Twenty-five guineas is a very small proportion of three hundred pounds," he exclaimed. "It is not three hundred pounds, sir," answered Mr Lawrence, with the countenance of a man who is resolved in his intention, but desires to speak with prudence and good humour. "But from my point of view it is three hundred pounds," cried Mr Greyquill. "What is the good of money without interest? I enter in my books the interest on my money as a part of my money, and if you tell me I am not to speak of my interest when I speak of what is due to me, what is my situation? How am I to live? The profit the butcher makes by the sale of his carcasses is the interest upon his outlay; deprive him of that and he will not sell you meat, because he could not afford to do so." "The butcher does not charge at your rate, Mr Greyquill," said Mr Lawrence with a faint smile.