To tell him what, was the hardest task I’d ever had in my life. And I did it badly. Sipping spoonfuls of broth and looking hard at me whilst he listened, did not help the process. I don’t know how I got it out, or how confused was the way I told him that I wanted a hundred pounds of my own money.
“A hundred pounds, eh?” said he. “You are a nice gentleman, Johnny Ludlow!”
“I am very sorry, sir, to have to ask it. The need is very urgent, or I should not do so.”
“What’s it for?” questioned he.
“I—it is to pay a debt, sir,” I answered, feeling my face flush hot.
“Whose debt?”
By the way he looked at me, I could see that he knew as plainly as though I had told him, that it was not my debt. And yet—but for letting him think it was mine, he might turn a deaf ear to me. Old Brandon finished up his broth, and put the basin down.
“You are a clever fellow, Johnny Ludlow, but not quite clever enough to deceive me. You’d no more get into such debt yourself, than I should. I have a better opinion of you than that. Who has sent you here?”
“Indeed, sir, I came of my own free will. No one knows, even, that I have come. Mr. Brandon, I hope you will help me: it is almost a matter of life or death.”
“You are wasting words and time, Johnny Ludlow.”