"Your timely visit has saved me a ride this morning, Donaldson," said the Spaniard. "I have an imperative necessity for my money, or at least for a part of it."
"My dear fellow, the very thing I have come to talk about!" said Donaldson.
"Corambre—to talk about! It must be something more than talk—words will not answer my purpose," replied Perozzi, his sharp black eye glittering with hate. "I tell you money I must have—money I will have, or—"
"Good God, Perozzi, don't drive me to desperation. You know I cannot pay you a single piastre! Only wait until I receive my return sales from England, and I swear to you you shall receive your last farthing!"
"Holy Mother Mary! your return sales from England!" exclaimed the other, in a tone of cutting sarcasm. "In what manner of vessel must those same returns be coming, for, if my memory serves me, Columbus discovered a new world in less time than this same richly-freighted caravela has been crossing the Atlantic—this has been your answer for twice a twelvemonth. And now," he continued, suddenly altering his tone, and striding to the side of his victim, "there must be an end of this—either pay me what you owe me, or give me a quit claim to the Cascade, for which you have already received from me more than its value."
"By heavens, Perozzi!" cried Mr. Donaldson, turning pale with anger and mortification, "this is more than I can bear even from you; but come," he added, suddenly forcing a laugh, "it was to see you upon a more pleasing errand I came here."
"Corambre!" whistled through the teeth of the Spaniard.
"Hark ye, Perozzi; what would you say if I could this moment promise to place you in possession of one hundred thousand dollars and—a wife?"
"Say! why that the Devil helped you to cajole, and then deserted you at the pinch, as he always does!" replied Perozzi.
"No cajolery about it, as you shall find," answered Mr. Donaldson. "But come, let us sit—by your leave I'll taste your wine; your health, signor, and" (turning out a second glass) "here is another to Madame Perozzi—ha-ha-ha! There—now," said he, setting down his glass with a force which nearly shivered it, "listen to me. You know that Mrs. Donaldson, by her first husband, had one daughter, Mildred Ward, who is at this moment on her return from England, whither she was sent at an early age for her education. She is now, by the bye, seventeen, and, as report informs us, extremely beautiful and accomplished. Now what think you, Perozzi, of the charming Mildred for a wife?"