"With my name to it! That's kind on his part,—and on yours too."
"Of course I can't take it up at the end of two months."
"I dare say not," said Vavasor.
"But he won't come upon you then,—nor for a year or more afterwards. I did pay you what you lent me before."
"Yes, you did. I always thought that to be a special compliment on your part."
"And you'll find I'll pull you through now in some way. If I don't succeed in this I shall go off the hooks altogether soon; and if I were dead my people would pay my debts then."
Before the evening was over Vavasor promised the assistance asked of him. He knew that he was lending his name to a man who was utterly ruined, and putting it into the hands of another man who was absolutely without conscience in the use he would make of it. He knew that he was creating for himself trouble, and in all probability loss, which he was ill able to bear. But the thing was one which came within the pale of his laws. Such assistance as that he might ask of others, and had asked and received before now. It was a reckless deed on his part, but then all his doings were reckless. It was consonant with his mode of life.
"I thought you would, old fellow," said Burgo, as he got up to go away. "Perhaps, you know, I shall pull through in this; and perhaps, after all, some part of her fortune will come with her. If so you'll be all right."
"Perhaps I may. But look here, Burgo,—don't you give that fellow up the bill till you've got the money into your fist."
"You may be quite easy about that. I know their tricks. He and I will go to the bank together, and we shall squabble there at the door about four or five odd sovereigns,—and at last I shall have to give him up two or three. Beastly old robber! I declare I think he's worse than I am myself." Then Burgo Fitzgerald took a little more brandy and water and went away.