“A likelihood? there is a certainty,” was the repay. “I have set my heart on getting him, and I will get him, no matter what it costs me to do so. But if I were to go to Compton Raidsford——”
“You will not go, though,” interrupted Squire Dudley.
“Trust me,” answered the promoter. “I was only instancing him as one of the men who do not want to make money. He is so puffed up with his park, and his deer, and his carriages, and his riding horses, and the infernal fuss that is made about him, it would be, ‘No, thank you, Mr. Black. I have one business, and that is enough for me. I find it as much as I can manage. Good morning!’ But you are differently situated, Dudley. You, like Lord Kemms, could do with a larger balance at your banker’s.”
“You amaze me about Lord Kemms,” said Arthur, thoughtfully.
“And I believe I should amaze you still more if I showed you the list of names I expect to get on the Direction. Allan Stewart will bring them up like a huntsman the hounds; but he cost me dear. Would you believe I had to give him five hundred pounds in hard cash—not bills, mind you—before he would even listen to me?”
“Dear me! I should not have supposed any man’s name was worth so much,” observed the Squire.
“Worth it! he could be worth five thousand, if one only had had the money to give him, but just now I found even the five hundred a pull. You know he stands between the nobility and the commercial men. He is good to bring both, and he promises me to get his nephew.”
“You don’t mean Aymescourt?”
“Yes, Aymescourt, only his name is Croft now, you know; he came into such a switching property when old Croft died. Of course I am telling you all this in strict confidence, Dudley. Not a soul knows about these things except yourself.”
“Of course,” Arthur agreed. Believing implicitly in Mr. Black’s statement, he felt flattered accordingly.