‘Two or three pounds, perhaps more,’ he replied, rising. ‘At all events, it’s a good thing, and if you go in with me, we’ll clear a good few thousand out of it.’ ‘Come and see me to-morrow morning,’ said the wiry man, also rising. ‘I think I’ll stand in.’ Barraclough rubbed his hands gleefully, and then slipping his arm in that of his companion they left the balcony and went back to the theatre. Vandeloup felt every nerve in his body tingling. Here was a chance to make money. If he only had a few hundreds he could buy up all the Magpie shares he could get and reap the benefit of the rise. Five hundred pounds! If he could obtain that sum he could buy two thousand five hundred shares, and if they went to three pounds, he could clear nearly eight thousand. What an idea! It was ripe fruit tumbling off the tree without the trouble of plucking it. But five hundred pounds! He had not as many pence, and he did not know where to get it. If he could only borrow it from someone--but then he could offer no security. A sense of his own helplessness came on him as he saw this golden tide flowing past his door, and yet was unable to take advantage of it. Five hundred pounds! The sum kept buzzing in his head like a swarm of bees, and he threw himself down again in his chair to try and think where he could get it. A noise disturbed him, and he saw that the opera was over, and a crowd of gentlemen were thronging into the bar. Jarper was among them, and he thought he would speak to him on the subject. Yes, Barty was a clever little fellow, and seemed always able to get money. Perhaps he would be able to assist him. He stepped out of the balcony into the light and touched Barty on the shoulder as he stood amid his friends. ‘Hullo! it’s you!’ cried Barty, turning round. ‘Where have you been, old chap?’ ‘Out on the balcony,’ answered Vandeloup, curtly. ‘Come and have supper with us,’ said Barty, hospitably. ‘We are going to have some at Leslie’s.’ ‘Yes, do come,’ urged Bellthorp, putting his arm in that of Vandeloup’s; ‘we’ll have no end of fun.’ Vandeloup was just going to accept, as he thought on the way he could speak privately to Barty about this scheme he had, when he saw a stout gentleman at the end of the room taking a cup of coffee at the counter, and talking to another gentleman who was very tall and thin. The figure of the stout gentleman seemed familiar to Vandeloup, and at this moment he turned slowly round and looked down the room. Gaston gave a start when he saw his face, and then smiled in a gratified manner to himself. ‘Who is that gentleman with the coffee?’ he asked Barty. ‘Those stout and lean kine,’ said Barty, airily, ‘puts one in mind of Pharaoh’s dream, doesn’t it?’ ‘Yes, yes!’ retorted Gaston, impatiently; ‘but who are they?’ ‘The long one is Fell, the railway contractor,’ said Barty, glancing with some surprise at Vandeloup, ‘and the other is old Meddlechip, the millionaire.’