‘Look here! If it comes to asking your wife, I’ll withdraw my request. I know what that means, well enough. But if you are afraid of not getting your money back, I’ll give you security.—What security? Why, manuscripts worth ten, twenty pounds. I should say, if I were some people—of priceless value.’
‘Ah!’ I said to myself, ‘there is Houlot, who has quarrelled with his bread-and-butter, and now he comes to me to borrow money to go on with. Would it not be better to send for Mrs Collingwood, to see if this is really the man who supplies her with her plots; and if so, to make the peace between them, and get him to continue the supply?’
Mrs Collingwood saved me the trouble of sending for her. I saw her coming across the garden to the pavilion. She was composed now and cheerful; she led one of my girls by the hand, and was telling her a story, I fancy, in which the child seemed uncommonly interested.
Houlot was standing leaning against the mantelpiece with his back to the doorway, and under his arm his stick, which he was rubbing with the point of his hook, as was his custom when vexed. I saw Mrs Collingwood coming in at the doorway—door and windows were wide open. All of a sudden her face whitened all over, and she tottered backwards. I ran to her assistance; but when I reached the garden, she had already disappeared within the house.
‘Am I a hobgoblin, that I frighten people?’ said Houlot savagely, coming to the door. ‘Where’s that woman who ran away?’
I made no reply; and he went on rubbing his stick with the iron hook, apparently in a very evil temper.
‘I want that money particularly. I want to go to England and expose this Collingwood Dawson, to strip him of his borrowed plumes, and shew the British public what a daw this fellow is whom they admire. Come; give me this five pounds, and let me go.’
‘I can’t say anything more to you just now,’ I replied. ‘I will let you know to-morrow.’
‘That will lose me two days; I want to start to-morrow.’
‘I can’t help it. I can’t let you have the money now.’