“Not particularly, but I’d like to help you if I can,” replied the adventurer.
“My little girl is coming to Hongkong. I sent for her—from the States. She will arrive to-morrow, and I have no money.”
“You sent for her? You sent for an American child to come to Hongkong in the rainy season? You ought to be shot!” Elliott ejaculated.
“She was all I had, and I am an old man. I was going to begin a new life, with her help, and now I have lost the money I had saved for her coming.”
“What in the world made you go up against that cursed game, then?” cried Elliott, wrathfully.
“I wanted money—more money. I had a chance to make a fortune. I dare say you have never known what it is to feel ready to turn to anything to make a little money—anything, even to evil. And yet this was for a good purpose. But now I have nothing. Tell me what to do.”
“I can lend you twenty pounds,” said Elliott, after cogitating for a little. “That ought to tide you over your present difficulty, and you’ve still got your job, I suppose. Yes, I’ll put twenty pounds in your daughter’s hands when she arrives, on the condition that she doesn’t give you a cent of it.”
“You will lend me twenty pounds—you—a stranger?” cried Eaton, with a stare. “You—I can’t thank you, but I will pray—no, I can’t even pray!” He put his head on the back of the bench and sobbed. “You must forgive me,” he said, raising his head again. “I have never found so much kindness in the world. You are right; do not trust me with a cent. I am not fit to be trusted.”
“Oh, yes, you are. I shouldn’t have said that,” encouraged Elliott, feeling horribly embarrassed. “And now, when is your daughter coming?”
“On the Southern Mail steamer. It touched at Yokohama eight days ago, and it’s due to arrive here to-morrow afternoon.”