"Why did you, then, from a commercial view, lend me large sums of money again and again?"
"Because," said the money-lender, coolly, "you had other security. You have a daughter!"
Judge Custis broke from the bed-covers and rushed upon Meshach Milburn.
"Heathen and devil!" he shouted, taking the money-lender by the throat, "do you dare to mention her as part of your mortgage?"
They struggled together until a powerful pair of hands pinioned the Judge, and bore him back to his bed. Samson Hat was the man.
"Judge!" he exclaimed, gentle, but firm, "you is a good man, but not as good as me. Cool off, Judge!"
"I expected this scene," said Meshach Milburn. "It could not have been avoided. I was bound in conscience and in common-sense to make you the only proposition which could save you from ruin. For, Judge Custis, you are a ruined man!"
Overcome with excitement and suspended stimulation, the old Judge fell back on his pillow and began to sob.
"Give him brandy," said Meshach Milburn, "here is the bottle! He needs it now."
The wretched gentleman eagerly drank the proffered draught from the negro's hands. His fury did not revive, and he covered his face with his palms and moaned piteously.