‘Oh, nothing; only, if you had been rich, I might have put something in your way by which you could have doubled your riches.’
‘What is it? What is it?’ cried the Jew eagerly. ‘Tell me; I can get money. Thousands, tens of thousands, millions of roubles, if needs be. But tell me what it is. I want to grow rich; I want money—want it by sackfuls. It is my dream; I worship it.’
‘Ah,’ grunted the sailor, with a smack of his lips, ‘you are all alike. Have you any friends in Moscow?’
‘No; I am a stranger. I have come to trade. I will lend money at interest on good security, or I will buy anything that I can sell again.’
The sailor became very thoughtful. He puffed away at his rank cigar like a man who was deeply absorbed, and the Jew ambled on by his side, mumbling to himself. Presently the sailor addressed him:
‘Do you stay in the same lodgings to-night?’
‘I do.’
‘Good. I’ll meet you at nine o’clock, and may be able to put something in your way. I must leave you now.’
‘Count on me,’ said the Jew. ‘If we can do a deal together, I’ll put money in your purse.’
‘You bet you will! You don’t suppose I’m going to serve you without serving myself. I don’t love your race enough for that. It’s a matter of convenience. But till to-night, adieu.’