"I have not given him any money," said Mr. Palliser, not quite knowing what he had better do or say under such circumstances.
"Then he will have a bad time with it," said the man. "And he might have carried away two thousand francs just now! Dear, dear, dear! Has he got any friends, sir?"
"Yes, he has friends. I do not know that I can assist him, or you."
"Fitzgerald;—his name is Fitzgerald?"
"Yes," said Mr. Palliser; "his name is Fitzgerald."
"Ah! There are so many Fitzgeralds in England. Mr. Fitzgerald, London;—he has no other address?"
"If he had, and I knew it, I should not give it you without his sanction."
"But what shall we do? How shall we act? Perhaps with his own hand he will himself kill. For five weeks his pension he owes; yes, for five weeks. And for wine, oh so much! There came through Baden a my lord, and then, I think he got money. But he went and played. That was of course. But; oh my G––––! he might have carried away this night two thousand francs; yes, two thousand francs!"
"Are you the hotelkeeper?"
"His friend, sir; only his friend. That is, I am the head Commissionaire. I look after the gentlemen who sometimes are not all—not all—" exactly what they should be, the commissioner intended to explain; and Mr. Palliser understood him although the words were not quite spoken. The interview was ended by Mr. Palliser taking the name of the hotel, and promising to call before Mr. Fitzgerald should be up in the morning—a purposed visit, which we need not regard as requiring any very early energy on Mr. Palliser's part, when we remember Burgo's own programme for the following day.