“Very well.—Leave it alone after this, my good fellow.”
Monjoy made a little brusque gesture with his hand.
“Oh, that’s all settled,” he replied. “That was settled before—but humph! Perhaps not; I’m hanged if I know!” A whimsical smile crossed his face. “I was going to say—I should have liked to be able to say—that that was all settled before the smash-up began; but frankly, I don’t know.... Give me the benefit of the doubt of it.”
“And after this, what are your plans?”
“Why, if (thanks to you) I am able to get through to Liverpool—the sea. Boston, perhaps—anywhere. If you mean my livelihood, well, I’m a good engraver.... I see you don’t want to exact a promise from me; let me offer it myself. Here and now, I promise you all—all you are thinking. Will you take that as my part of a Jesuitical sort of bargain?”
They shook hands for the first time.
“Have you any money?” the parson asked, by and by.
Monjoy shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve two furnaces over the Slack; not a stiver besides.”
“Will you let me lend you a little?”
“Hm!—I might even have asked it. But let’s get something to eat first. I’m hungry.”