Before chronicling the incidents of the interview between them, we must go back to the time of Martin's awaking in the room in Leonard Street.
He remembered, at once, the visit of the landlord's agent the day previous, and felt that the time for action had arrived. He knew that the scanty furniture in the room was liable to seizure for rent, and this he resolved the landlord should not get hold of. Accordingly, dressing hastily, he went round to Baxter Street, and accosted the proprietor of a general second-hand establishment, with whom he had previously had some dealings.
"I've got some furniture to sell," he said. "Do you want to buy?"
"I don't know," said the other. "Trade is very dull. I don't sell a dollar's worth in a day."
"Come, you shall have them cheap," said Martin.
"What have you got?"
"Come and see."
"Where is it?"
"In Leonard Street, just round the corner."
The dealer, always ready for a bargain, was induced to climb up to the attic room, and take a look at the cheap wooden bedstead, with its scanty bedding, and the two chairs, which were about all the furniture the room contained.