Baron Levy smiled, and put up his pocket-book. He saw from that moment that the victory was gained.
“My dear boy,” said he, with the most agreeable bonhommie, “it is very natural that you should think a man would have a personal interest in whatever he does for another. I believe that view of human nature is called utilitarian philosophy, and is much in fashion at present. Let me try and explain to you. In this affair I sha’n’t injure myself. True, you will say, if I settle claims which amount to L20,000 for L10,000, I might put the surplus into my own pocket instead of yours. Agreed. But I shall not get the L20,000, nor repay myself Madame di Negra’s debts (whatever I may do as to Hazeldean’s), unless the count gets this heiress. You can help in this. I want you; and I don’t think I could get you by a less offer than I make. I shall soon pay myself back the L10,000 if the count get hold of the lady and her fortune. Brief, I see my way here to my own interests. Do you want more reasons,—you shall have them. I am now a very rich man. How have I become so? Through attaching myself from the first to persons of expectations, whether from fortune or talent. I have made connections in society, and society has enriched me. I have still a passion for making money. ‘Que voulez-vous?’ It is my profession, my hobby. It will be useful to me in a thousand ways to secure as a friend a young man who will have influence with other young men, heirs to something better than Rood Hall. You may succeed in public life. A man in public life may attain to the knowledge of State secrets that are very profitable to one who dabbles a little in the Funds. We can perhaps hereafter do business together that may put yourself in a way of clearing off all mortgages on these estates,—on the encumbered possession of which I shall soon congratulate you. You see I am frank; ‘t is the only way of coming to the point with so clever a fellow as you. And now, since the less we rake up the mud in a pond from which we have resolved to drink the better, let us dismiss all other thoughts but that of securing our end. Will you tell Peschiera where the young lady is, or shall I? Better do it yourself; reason enough for it, that he has confided to you his hope, and asked you to help him; why should not you? Not a word to him about our little arrangement; he need never know it. You need never be troubled.” Levy rang the bell: “Order my carriage round.”
Randal made no objection. He was deathlike pale, but there was a sinister expression of firmness on his thin, bloodless lips.
“The next point,” Levy resumed, “is to hasten the match between Frank and the fair widow. How does that stand?”
“She will not see me, nor receive him.”
“Oh, learn why! And if you find on either side there is a hitch, just let me know; I will soon remove it.”
“Has Hazeldean consented to the post-obit?”
“Not yet; I have not pressed it; I wait the right moment, if necessary.”
“It will be necessary.”
“Ah, you wish it. It shall be so.”