“As you please, sir; but you must allow me to put my own construction on your silence. Let us conclude our business.”
“Readily, colonel,” the usurer returned.
Upon which he unlocked the chest standing near him, and taking out a leather bag, placed it upon the table. Just as he had untied this bag, and was pouring forth its glittering contents, the door was suddenly opened by Skrow Antram, who entered, followed by a tall man. Almost involuntarily, the old usurer spread his skinny hands over the heap of gold, sharply rebuking Skrow for coming in unsummoned, and glancing suspiciously at the person by whom he was accompanied. The latter, though wearing a plain riding-dress of the precise Puritan cut, and mud-bespattered boots, together with a tall steeple-crowned hat and long cloak totally destitute of velvet and lace, had nevertheless a certain air of distinction, combined with great dignity of deportment, and might be described as looking like a Cavalier in the guise of a Roundhead. He was of middle age—perhaps a little past it—but appeared full of vigour. His features were handsome, and rather haughty in expression; his locks were clipped short, in puritanical fashion.
The moment Colonel Maunsel cast eyes upon the stranger he knew him to be Lord Wilmot, the devoted attendant of the fugitive king; while on his part the nobleman, recognizing a friend, signed to the other not to betray any knowledge of him.
“How dared you admit this gentleman, Skrow? Hath he bribed you to let him in, eh?” the old usurer cried, with so angry a look at the porter, that the latter beat a hasty retreat. “What seek you, sir?” Zachary added to the new comer. “What business have you with me?”
“Read that letter from Colonel George Gunter, of Racton, and you will see,” was Lord Wilmot’s reply. “He has urgent and immediate need of five hundred pounds, and has despatched me for it.”
“You have come on a fool’s errand, sir,” old Zachary rejoined, sharply. “Colonel Gunter has had more money of mine than I shall ever see back again. I won’t lend him another noble.”
“Read the letter before you give an answer,” Lord Wilmot cried, authoritatively.
While old Zachary glanced over the missive, signs like those of freemasonry passed between the nobleman and Colonel Maunsel, from which the latter understood for what purpose the money was wanted. In another moment the old usurer threw down the letter.
“I won’t lend the money,” he cried, in an inflexible tone. “You may go back to Colonel Gunter and tell him so.”
“Dost thou not perceive that he promises to pay thee back double the amount in two months?” Lord Wilmot exclaimed. “Is not that enough, thou old extortioner?”
“Ay, but he offers me no security. He can offer none; since I hold the title-deeds of his whole estate in yonder press.”
“But I must have the money, I tell thee. Much depends upon it,” Lord Wilmot exclaimed.
“If the kingdom depended upon it, you should not have it from me—without security,” the old usurer rejoined.
“I will be thy security, Master Trangmar,” Colonel Maunsel interposed. “This gentleman, I am well assured, is a person of honour. Give him the two hundred pounds you intended for me. Add other three hundred. Thou shalt have my bond, and further security on another farm of mine at Bevingdean.”
“You are a true friend to the good cause, sir,” cried Lord Wilmot.
“Ah! I begin to see what it all means now,” the old usurer exclaimed, rubbing his skinny hands. “Well, sir, who ever you may be, and I have an inkling that I have seen your face before, you shall have the money. Nay, I will go further. Colonel Maunsel’s generosity shall not be taxed so far as to deprive him of the two hundred pounds which he requires for his own use. He shall have that amount, without reference to the loan to your master—I crave your pardon—to Colonel Gunter.” As he spoke, he again unlocked the coffer, and took out five bags. “Each of these bags,” he continued, “contains a hundred pounds in gold. Can you carry them?”
“I will make shift to do so,” Lord Wilmot rejoined, bestowing them hastily about his person. “My friend is much beholden to you, Master Trangmar. Colonel Maunsel,” he added, in a low tone, to the old Cavalier, “you have rendered his Majesty a signal service, and I thank you heartily in his name.”
Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144