Mr Finsbury slept soundly after the manifold fatigues of the day. He rose late, and, after a good breakfast, ordered the bill. Then it was that he made a discovery which has been made by many others, both before and since: that it is one thing to order your bill, and another to discharge it. The items were moderate and (what does not always follow) the total small; but, after the most sedulous review of all his pockets, one and nine pence halfpenny appeared to be the total of the old gentleman’s available assets. He asked to see Mr Watts.
‘Here is a bill on London for eight hundred pounds,’ said Mr Finsbury, as that worthy appeared. ‘I am afraid, unless you choose to discount it yourself, it may detain me a day or two till I can get it cashed.’
Mr Watts looked at the bill, turned it over, and dogs-eared it with his fingers. ‘It will keep you a day or two?’ he said, repeating the old man’s words. ‘You have no other money with you?’
‘Some trifling change,’ responded Joseph. ‘Nothing to speak of.’
‘Then you can send it me; I should be pleased to trust you.’
‘To tell the truth,’ answered the old gentleman, ‘I am more than half inclined to stay; I am in need of funds.’
‘If a loan of ten shillings would help you, it is at your service,’ responded Watts, with eagerness.
‘No, I think I would rather stay,’ said the old man, ‘and get my bill discounted.’
‘You shall not stay in my house,’ cried Mr Watts. ‘This is the last time you shall have a bed at the “Tregonwell Arms”.’
‘I insist upon remaining,’ replied Mr Finsbury, with spirit; ‘I remain by Act of Parliament; turn me out if you dare.’