“Grieved to hear it, Mr. Carew,” was the grave, sententious reply.
“I don't believe you, Tony. When a man can lend, as you can, on his own terms, he 's never very sorry to hear of the occasion for his services.”
“Cash is scarce, sir.”
“So I have always found it, Tony; but, like everything else, one gets it by paying for. I 'm willing to do so, and now, what's the rate,—ten, fifteen, or are you Patriarch enough to need twenty per cent?”
“I'm not sure that I could oblige you, even on such terms, Mr. Carew. There is a long outstanding, unsettled account between us. There is a very considerable balance due to me. There are, in fact, dealings between us which call for a speedy arrangement.”
“And which are very unlikely to be favored with it, Tony. Now, I have n't a great deal of time to throw away, for I'm off to the country to-night, so that pray let us understand each other at once. I shall need, before Monday next, a sum of not less than eight thousand pounds. Hacket, my man of law, will show you such securities as I possess. Call on him, and take your choice of them. I desire that our negotiation should be strictly a matter between ourselves, because we live in gossiping times, and I don't care to amuse the town with my private affairs. Are you satisfied with this?”
“Eight thousand, in bills, of course, sir?”
“If you wish it!”
“At what dates?”
“The longer the better.”