“That's your business, my old cock,” said Mowbray. “This youngster will be here perhaps to-morrow, with money in both pockets—he takes up his rents as he comes down, Mick—think of that, my old friend.”
“Weel for them that have rents to take up,” said Meiklewham; “ours are lying rather ower low to be lifted at present.—But are you sure this Earl is a man to mell with?—are you sure ye can win of him, and that if you do, he can pay his losings, Mr. Mowbray?—because I have kend mony are come for wool, and gang hame shorn; and though ye are a clever young gentleman, and I am bound to suppose ye ken as much about life as most folk, and all that; yet some gate or other ye have aye come off at the losing hand, as ye have ower much reason to ken this day—howbeit”——
“O, the devil take your gossip, my dear Mick! If you can give no help, spare drowning me with your pother.—Why, man, I was a fresh hand—had my apprentice-fees to pay—and these are no trifles, Mick.—But what of that?—I am free of the company now, and can trade on my own bottom.”
“Aweel, aweel, I wish it may be sae,” said Meiklewham.
“It will be so, and it shall be so, my trusty friend,” replied Mowbray, cheerily, “so you will but help me to the stock to trade with.”
“The stock?—what d'ye ca' the stock? I ken nae stock that ye have left.”
“But you have plenty, my old boy—Come, sell out a few of your three per cents; I will pay difference—interest—exchange—every thing.”
“Ay, ay—every thing or naething,” answered Meiklewham; “but as you are sae very pressing, I hae been thinking—Whan is the siller wanted?”
“This instant—this day—to-morrow at farthest!” exclaimed the proposed borrower.