“To about a thousand pounds,” said Sir Arthur, hastily; “you told me the amount the other day.”
“But there’s another term’s interest due since that, Sir Arthur, and it amounts (errors excepted) to eleven hundred and thirteen pounds, seven shillings, five pennies, and three-fourths of a penny sterling—But look over the summation yourself.”
“I daresay you are quite right, my dear sir,” said the Baronet, putting away the book with his hand, as one rejects the old-fashioned civility that presses food upon you after you have eaten till you nauseate— “perfectly right, I dare say; and in the course of three days or less you shall have the full value—that is, if you choose to accept it in bullion.”
“Bullion! I suppose you mean lead. What the deuce! have we hit on the vein then at last? But what could I do with a thousand pounds’ worth, and upwards, of lead? The former abbots of Trotcosey might have roofed their church and monastery with it indeed—but for me”—
“By bullion,” said the Baronet, “I mean the precious metals,—gold and silver.”
“Ay! indeed?—and from what Eldorado is this treasure to be imported?”
“Not far from hence,” said Sir Arthur, significantly. “And naow I think of it, you shall see the whole process, on one small condition.”
“And what is that?” craved the Antiquary.
“Why, it will be necessary for you to give me your friendly assistance, by advancing one hundred pounds or thereabouts.”
Mr. Oldbuck, who had already been grasping in idea the sum, principal and interest, of a debt which he had long regarded as wellnigh desperate, was so much astounded at the tables being so unexpectedly turned upon him, that he could only re-echo, in an accent of wo and surprise, the words, “Advance one hundred pounds!”