“What the deuce do I care, sir, how a man like you loses his money, and whether it is at hazard or roulette?” screamed the Baronet, with a multiplicity of oaths, and at the top of his voice. “What I will not have, sir, is that you should use my name, or couple it with yours.—Damn him, Strong, why don’t you keep him in better order? I tell you he has gone and used my name again, sir,—drawn a bill upon me, and lost the money on the table—I can’t stand it—I won’t stand it. Flesh and blood won’t bear it—Do you know how much I have paid for you, sir?”
“This was only a very little ’un, Sir Francis—only fifteen pound, Captain Strong, they wouldn’t stand another: and it oughtn’t to anger you, Governor. Why, it’s so trifling I did not even mention it to Strong,—did I now, Captain? I protest it had quite slipped my memory, and all on account of that confounded liquor I took.”
“Liquor or no liquor, sir, it is no business of mine. I don’t care what you drink, or where you drink it—only it shan’t be in my house. And I will not have you breaking into my house of a night, and a fellow like you intruding himself on my company: how dared you show yourself in Grosvenor Place last night, sir,—and—and what do you suppose my friends must think of me when they see a man of your sort walking into my dining-room uninvited, and drunk, and calling for liquor as if you were the master of the house?”
“They’ll think you know some very queer sort of people, I dare say,” Altamont said with impenetrable good-humour. “Look here, Baronet, I apologise; on my honour I do, and ain’t an apology enough between two gentlemen? It was a strong measure I own, walking into your cuddy, and calling for drink as if I was the Captain: but I had had too much before, you see, that’s why I wanted some more; nothing can be more simple—and it was because they wouldn’t give me no more money upon your name at the Black and Red, that I thought I would come down and speak to you about it. To refuse me was nothing: but to refuse a bill drawn on you that have been such a friend to the shop, and are a baronet and a member of parliament, and a gentleman and no mistake—Damme, its ungrateful.”
“By heavens, if ever you do it again—if ever you dare to show yourself in my house; or give my name at a gambling-house or at any other house, by Jove—at any other house—or give any reference at all to me, or speak to me in the street, by God, or anywhere else until I speak to you—I disclaim you altogether—I won’t give you another shilling.”
“Governor, don’t be provoking,” Altamont said surlily. “Don’t talk to me about daring to do this thing or t’other, or when my dander is up it’s the very thing to urge me on. I oughtn’t to have come last night, I know I oughtn’t: but I told you I was drunk, and that ought to be sufficient between gentleman and gentleman.”
“You a gentleman! dammy, sir,” said the Baronet, “how dares a fellow like you to call himself a gentleman?”
“I ain’t a baronet, I know,” growled the other; “and I’ve forgotten how to be a gentleman almost now, but—but I was one, once, and my father was one, and I’ll not have this sort of talk from you, Sir F. Clavering, that’s flat. I want to go abroad again. Why don’t you come down with the money, and let me go? Why the devil are you to be rolling in riches, and me to have none? Why should you have a house and a table covered with plate, and me be in a garret here in this beggarly Shepherd’s Inn? We’re partners, ain’t we? I’d as good a right to be rich as you have, haven’t I? Tell the story to Strong here, if you like; and ask him to be umpire between us. I don’t mind letting my secret out to a man that won’t split. Look here, Strong—perhaps you guess the story already—the fact is, me and the Governor——”
“D——, hold your tongue,” shrieked out the Baronet in a fury. “You shall have the money as soon as I can get it. I ain’t made of money. I’m so pressed and badgered, I don’t know where to turn. I shall go mad; by Jove, I shall. I wish I was dead, for I’m the most miserable brute alive. I say, Mr. Altamont, don’t mind me. When I’m out of health—and I’m devilish bilious this morning—hang me, I abuse everybody, and don’t know what I say. Excuse me if I’ve offended you. I—I’ll try and get that little business done. Strong shall try. Upon my word he shall. And I say, Strong, my boy, I want to speak to you. Come into the office for a minute.”
Almost all Clavering’s assaults ended in this ignominious way, and in a shameful retreat. Altamont sneered after the Baronet as he left the room, and entered into the office, to talk privately with his factotum.