“Do for me! By Gott, you have done for me already, with your cursed Hebrew tricks,” said the captain. The German and the Jew met on a neutral ground of broken English.
“I always treat every gentleman fair, sare,” said the Jew. “I tell you, captain, I lose by that last bill of yours.”
“Der teufel! who gains, then?” said Von Dessel, “for you cut me off thirty per cent.”
The Jew shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t make it so, sare; the siege makes it so. When the port is open, you shall have more better exchange.”
“Well, money must be had,” said the German. “What will you give now for my bill for twenty pounds?”
The Jew consulted a book of figures—then made some calculations on paper—then appeared to consider intently.
“Curse you, speak!” said the choleric captain. “You have made up your mind about how much roguery long ago.”
“Captain, sare, I give you feefty dollars,” said the Jew.
The captain burst forth with a volley of German execrations.