He soon reached the Jew’s house, and was shown by a richly clad servant into the room where Amos sat. Amos was an old man, tall and strong, with a long bushy beard, in which his fingers continually played; and his eyes were sharp and brilliant and restless, a strange contrast to his stately bearing and measured movements. He rose from his cushions as Gregorio entered, and saluted him courteously, motioning him to a seat. Then, having resettled himself, he clapped his hands together smartly and ordered the servant who answered the summons to bring in coffee and pipes.
Gregorio was rather overawed at the luxury he saw around him, and he felt the stern-looking, polite old man would be a difficult person to deal with. As he puffed at his tube he considered carefully what words he should use.
For some time neither spoke, but Amos was the first to break the silence.
“You heard I was at your house last night, and so have come to pay me?”
“Yes, I heard you were at my house and that you wanted to be paid. You are a rich man, and I am poor.”
“Nay, I am not rich; they lie who say I am rich.”
“It is twenty pounds I owe you, is it not?”
“Yes, twenty pounds. It is a large sum, and I have dealt generously with you. I am now in need of it myself.”
“I am a poor man.”
“You have not the money, eh, my friend?”