“Fleet prison! Fleet fiddlestick! No. You have never been in Russia. Why should we not go there both? My Paris friend, Madame Caumartin, was going to Italy, but her plans are changed, and she is now all for St. Petersburg. She will wait a few days for you to get well. We will all go together and enjoy ourselves. The Russians dote upon whist. We shall get into their swell sets and live like princes.” Therewith Jasper launched forth on the text of Russian existence in such glowing terms that Dolly Poole shut his aching eyes and fancied himself sledging down the Neva, covered with furs; a countess waiting for him at dinner, and counts in dozens ready to offer bets to a fabulous amount that Jasper Losely lost the rubber. Having lifted his friend into this region of aerial castles, Jasper then, descending into the practical world, wound up with the mournful fact that one could not get to St. Petersburg, nor when there into swell sets, without having some little capital on hand. “I tell you what we will do. Madame Caumartin lives in prime style. Get old Latham, your employer, to discount her bill at three months’ date for L500, and we will be all off in a crack.” Poole shook his head. “Old Latham is too knowing a file for that. A foreigner! He’d want security.” “I’ll be security.” Dolly shook his head a second time, still more emphatically than the first. “But you say he does discount paper,--gets rich on it?” “Yes, gets rich on ‘it, which he might not do if he discounted the paper you propose. No offence.” “Oh, no offence among friends! You have taken him bills which he has discounted?” “Yes,--good paper.” “Any paper signed by good names is good paper. We can sign good names if we know their handwritings.”