"Not payable at sight!" exclaimed Sir Christopher, in astonishment. "Why—I never heard of the Bank of England issuing notes that weren't payable on demand."
"Egad, nor I!" said Captain O'Blunderbuss. "But sure it isn't a Bank of England note at all, at all: it's just my own acceptance——"
"Your acceptance!" groaned the knight, his countenance becoming suddenly blank.
"Yes—be Jasus! and here it is, my dear frind," returned O'Blunderbuss, thrusting the rumpled slip of paper into Sir Christopher's hand. "It's as dacent a note for a promissory one as ever you'd wish to see, and as good as any of the palthry flimsy stuff that the Bank of England ever issued—or the Bank of Ould Ireland either: and that's not even saying enough for it."
Sir Christopher—looking indeed like a knight of the rueful countenance—turned the document over and over in his hands, having glanced impatiently at its contents, which were drawn out in the usual style of a bill of exchange, Captain O'Blunderbuss having accepted it in favour of Frank Curtis, for the amount of One Thousand Pounds, and at three months after date.
"Well, Sir Christopher, and what d'ye say to that, my old buck?" cried the captain, apparently surprised that the knight had not already expressed his admiration at the whole proceeding.
"What—what would you have me do with this?" asked Sir Christopher, in a hesitating manner; for the fact is, he could not think well of it, and he dared not speak ill of it.
"Is it what you should do with it?" vociferated the captain. "Arrah! and be Jasus, man, pay yourself out of it and write me a cheque for the balance."
"But, captain—I—I am no discounter," remonstrated the knight. "This little slip of paper is no use to me."
"Why! sirrah, and just now you was prepared to pay me the difference if it had been a Bank-note!" cried O'Blunderbuss. "D'ye suspict the thing, my frind? For if you mane to infer that it isn't as good as a Bank-note, it's a direct insult to myself; and, be the Lord Harry! it's me that'll resint it."