"I was waiting for that, you old villain! I was waiting for that!"
But it did not disgust him. He did not even pretend to be disgusted. There were no scruples left in those reckless, heated eyes.
"You give me your promissory note for a thousand pounds, payable on your wedding day, or on demand thereafter, and you'll be married the month after you get back."
Ralph laughed more harshly than before.
"Go on, Jewson! You aren't drunk, are you? Then how do you think you're going to manage it?"
"Ah, that I sha'n't tell you; but manage it I can and will. You leave it to me. If you sail at the New Year—and there's two or three ships advertised—it'll be your own fault if you aren't married by midsummer. And if that isn't worth a thousand pounds I don't know what is."
"It's worth two!" whispered Devenish, hoarsely; "and you shall have two if—if——"
"If what?"
"If he—if he lives to see the day."
Jewson chuckled aloud.