"And so I am now!" cried Tom Rain, striking the table angrily with his clenched fist.
"Softly-softly, my good friend," said Old Death. "We shall agree better afterwards if we have a good understanding at first. I was going to observe that for some years Tullock loses sight of you; he comes up to town, takes this public, and doesn't even remember that there's such a fellow in existence as yourself until you make your appearance here a few days back."
"When he received me with open arms, and introduced me to you," added Tom Rain. "But go on: what next?"
"Ah! what next?" replied Old Death, with a horrible chuckle that issued from his throat as if it come from the depths of a tomb. "Why—you frankly and candidly told me your intentions and views, I admit;—but you can't do without me—you can't do without me, my dear boy—and you know it!"
Again the hideous old man chuckled in his cavern-like tones.
"I never denied what you say," answered Tom Rain. "On the contrary, I am well aware that no one in my line can think of doing business about London, and making London his head-quarters, without your assistance."
"To be sure not!" said the old man, evidently pleased by this compliment. "I've had the monopoly of it all for this thirty years, and never once got into trouble. But then I do my business with caution—such caution! I've dealings with all that are worth having dealings with; and not one of them knows even where I live!"
"Only let me find a sure and ready-money market for my goods," exclaimed Tom Rain, "and I'll do more business with you than all the chaps you speak of put together."
"Well, I suppose we must come to terms," said Old Death after a short pause. "Tullock assures me that you were straight-forward when he knew you in the country, and though time changes men's minds as well as their faces, I'll take it for granted that you're all right. You remember the conditions?"
"Not a word you uttered three days ago has escaped my memory," answered Rain.