Greenwood never moved from his seat until he heard the front door close behind the stock-broker.
Then he started from his chair, and all his apparent composure vanished.
"Sixteen thousand pounds more gone!" he exclaimed, in a hoarse, hollow tone, while he clenched his fists with rage. "Loss upon loss! All this is enough to ruin any man! And I—who have been even far more unfortunate of late than I chose to admit to Tomlinson! Nothing short of one bold and successful hit can now retrieve my tottering fortunes. Securities for twenty thousand pounds, indeed! Ha! ha! I have not bills nor bonds in my possession to the amount of three thousand!"—and he laughed wildly. "But I will have them, though—aye, and such ones as shall fully serve my purposes."
Then he paced the room in a singularly agitated manner.
"Yes—one more bold stroke, and I shall retrieve myself," he continued. "My good star cannot have altogether deserted me. No—no! These vicissitudes are only temporary. Accursed Lafleur! To think that he should have served me thus! Instead of proceeding to Paris—with the means of following up those schemes which I had combined so well, and in which I had already risked so much—but with such absolute certainties of immense gain,—instead of pursuing my career of success,—to be plundered—robbed at the last moment—and compelled to return to London to raise fresh funds! Then, when in four days I was prepared with the necessary sum once more—with another twenty thousand pounds—to receive letters which convinced me that the delay was fatal, and that all was lost! Yes—Fortune did indeed persecute me then! But I will be even with her yet. My information concerning the Spanish debt is accurate; and on that ground I can build a fortune far more colossal than the one I have lost. Shall I hesitate, then, in obtaining this money through Tomlinson's agency? No—no!"
Having thus buoyed himself up with those hopes which invariably urge on the gambler—whether at the actual gaming-table or in the public funds (for there is little difference in a moral light between the two modes of speculation),—to put down fresh stakes on the chance aimed at, Greenwood recovered his wonted calmness.
He busied himself in arranging his papers, and restoring neatness to his writing-table.
Thus passed the time until six o'clock, when Filippo entered the room with a letter.
It was from Tomlinson.
Greenwood tore it open: the contents were favourable. The stock-broker's friend had agreed to advance any sum up to twenty-five thousand pounds on the terms proposed, and had promised to observe the strictest secrecy in the transaction.