“That scamp, St. John. A very different business, indeed. Why, sir, they value him at one thousand pounds, and I 'll venture to assert that his friends—if that be the name of the people who know him—would call him a dear bargain at twenty. I'm certain his own father would say so; but, poor fellow, he is very ill, and can't talk on this or any other matter just now. Lady Mary, however, insists on his release, and we must see what can be done. You know the habits and ways of these rascals,—these brigands,—don't you?”
“No, my Lord; nothing whatever about them.”
“Then, in Heaven's name, sir, what do you know?”
“Very little about anything, my Lord, I must confess; but as I am sorely pushed to find a livelihood, and don't fancy being a burden to my friends, I told Mr. Gresson, this morning, that I was quite ready to undertake the mission if I should be intrusted with it; and that, so far as bail or security went, my uncle Rankin, of Rankin and Bates, would unquestionably afford it.”
“Ah, this is very different, indeed,” said he, ponderingly, and with a look of compassionate interest I had not thought his face capable of. “Gone too fast, perhaps; have been hit hard at Doncaster or Goodwood?”
“No, my Lord; I never betted. I started with a few thousand pounds and lost them in a speculation.”
“Well, well. I have no right to enter into these things. Go and see Mr. Temple, the financial clerk. Take this to him, and see what he says to you. If he is satisfied, come down to the House to-night. But stay! You ought to start this evening, oughtn't you?”
“I believe, my Lord, the time is very short. They require the money to be paid by the twelfth.”
“Or they'll cut his ears off, I suppose,” said he, laughing. “Well, he's an ugly dog already; not that cropping will improve him. Here, take this to Temple, and arrange the matter between you.”
And he hurriedly wrote half a dozen lines, which he enclosed and addressed, and then returning to his seat, said, “Bonne chance! I wish you success and a pleasant journey.”