'Make your mind easy, Mosk. It is not my place to carry tales to your landlord; and I am aware that the lower orders cannot conduct themselves with decorum, especially on Saturday night. I repine that such a scene should be possible in a Christian land, but I don't blame you for its existence.'
'That's all right, sir,' said Mosk, with a sigh of relief. 'I'm rough but honest, whatever lies may be told to the contrary. If I can't pay my rent, that ain't my fault, I hope, as it ain't to be expected as I can do miracles.'
'The age of miracles is past, my worthy friend,' replied Cargrim, in conciliatory tones. 'We must not expect the impossible nowadays. By the way'—with a sudden change—'have you a man called Jentham here?'
'Yes, I have,' growled Mosk, looking suspiciously at his questioner. 'What do you know of him, sir?'
'Nothing; but I take an interest in him as he seems to be one who has known better days.'
'He don't know them now, at all events, Mr Cargrim. He owes me money for this last week, he does. He paid all right at fust, but he don't pay now.'
'Indeed,' said the chaplain, pricking up his ears, 'he owes you money?'
'That he does; more nor two quid, sir. But he says he'll pay me soon.'
'Ah! he says he'll pay you soon,' repeated Cargrim; 'he expects to receive money, then?'
'I s'pose so, tho' Lord knows!—I beg pardon, sir—tho' goodness knows where it's coming from. He don't work or get wages as I can see.'