"And whose fault's that?" returned his companion. "Thou mayest have riches, and everything else, if thou wilt be advised by me."
Mike stared, as well he might, at the dark figure by his side. The idea of wealth without labour was perfectly new to him, and he ventured to ask how this very desirable object might be accomplished.
"Listen. Thou art a poor miserable wretch, and canst hardly earn a livelihood with all thy toil. Is't not a pleasant thing and a desirable, however procured, to obtain wealth at will, and every happiness and delight that man can enjoy?"
Michael's thirsty lips watered at the prospect, notwithstanding his dread of the black gentleman at his elbow.
"I was once poor and wretched as thou. But I grew wiser, and—unlimited wealth is now at my command."
There was an awful pause; the stranger apparently wishful to know the effect of this mysterious communication. The liquorish tailor listened greedily, expecting to hear of the means whereby his condition would be so wonderfully amended.
"Hast thou never heard of those who have been helped by the powers of darkness to"——
"Save us, merci"——
"Hold!" said the peremptory stranger, seizing Mike rudely by the wrist. "Another such outcry, and I will leave thee to thy seams and patches; to starve, or linger on, as best thou mayst."
Michael promised obedience, and his companion continued—