“I cannot promise that before knowing what you demand,” said the son, his face clouding. “I have no sympathy with your manner of life, father. If you had not the advantage of titled connections, and did not bear the title of ‘Honorable,’ you would be called an adventurer. You know you would. I want nothing to do with your ways of life. I will not be a gambler—not for all the wealth in England!”
“Don’t refuse till you are asked,” said Mr. Black harshly. “Don’t imagine that I want to corrupt your fine principles by making a gambler of you. I am no gamester, even though I play at cards. I play only as gentlemen play. The game I have in hand for you is easily played, if you have but ordinary skill. I can make you master of one of the finest estates in England, if you but say the word!”
“Honorably? Can you do it honorably?” cried Rufus eagerly.
“Certainly. I would not propose anything dishonorable to one of your nice sense of honor,” said Mr. Black, with sarcastic emphasis.
“What is it you would have me do?”
“You are young, enthusiastic, well looking and well educated,” said Mr. Black, without paying heed to his son’s questions. “In short, you are fitted to the business I have in hand. I intended to give you a professional education, but if you obey me you won’t want it, and if you do not obey me you may go to the dogs. I suppose your poverty has driven that little low-born music teacher out of your head?”
“What has she to do with this business?”
“Nothing whatever. I want to make sure that you are well rid of her, but perhaps it would be as well to leave her name out of the question. You say you are starving. Now, if you will solemnly promise to obey me, I will advance you fifty pounds to-day, with which you can fit up your wardrobe and gratify any luxurious desires you may have.”
Rufus Black’s eyes sparkled.
“Speak,” he said impatiently. “I am desperately poor. I would do almost anything for fifty pounds. What do you want done?”