“Very well, then, my dear sir, very well; be good enough to get it. I shall rely upon you, for I must have some within a week.”
He turned right round and walked to the door again, and then turned and said smilingly—
“Sorry to trouble you, but may your men row me ashore?”
“Yes, of course. But stop. Look here, Gellow.”
“Very sorry to have worried you, Mr Glyddyr. One thou, please, within seven days.”
“But it will be inconvenient. I can’t raise the money in the time. I—look here. Why, confound the man! Here, Gellow!”
There was no reply, and angry, mortified, humbled by his impecunious position, Glyddyr hurried on to the deck, and found that his visitor was already in the boat, and several yards away from the yacht’s side.
“Look here, Gellow,” he cried.
“Eh? Please write. Can’t stop. Be just able to catch the next train and get in by to-morrow morning. Pull away, my lads; a shilling a-piece for beer if you look sharp.”
Glyddyr ground his teeth with rage as he gazed after his spider, and felt how thoroughly he had been bound up like a fly of fashion in the wretched schemer’s web.