“And this is your request, Mr. Blennerhagen?”
“It is.”
“Have you any thing else to ask?”
“Absolutely nothing:—I require nothing but your promise on this point.”
“And the bills—”
“Oh!—of course, the bills:—your promise and the bills.”
“You have omitted to prove to me the honesty of your intentions towards Mr. Wyburn.”
“I will do so in a few words.—Although piqued at George for not immediately acquainting me with the circumstance of his being arrested, the moment I quitted you this morning, I flew to his creditors, and procured his instant release, by becoming security for payment of the bonds on which he had been arrested. You, doubtless, have ascertained that he is discharged: if not, you may do so at once, by sending one of your clerks to the lock-up house. This, you must allow, is a tolerably good proof of my intentions towards him. You will understand, that I do not wish him to know how far I have gone, as it would be needless, at pre-tent, to hurt his pride. We should reverence a friend's feelings, although, to our minds, they may appear failings. You are now convinced, I hope.”
“I am!” exclaimed Burdock, with unusual energy; “I am convinced that you are an atrocious scoundrel!—Don't frown, or pretend to be in a passion, or I'll shew you no mercy. You're check-mated, Blennerhagen.”
“Mr. Burdock! what's the matter?—What has possessed you?”