indeed fortunate that business should have led me here: but meanwhile
you will not refuse this trifle,--as a loan merely. By and by our
scheme will make you so rich that I must be the borrower."

Glendower did hesitate for a moment; he did swallow a bitter rising of
the heart: but he thought of those at home and the struggle was over.

"I thank you," said he; "I thank you for their sake: the time may
come,"--and the proud gentleman stopped short, for his desolate
fortunes rose before him and forbade all hope of the future.

"Yes!" cried Crauford, "the time may come when you will repay me this
money a hundredfold. But where do you live? You are silent. Well,
you will not inform me: I understand you. Meet me, then, here, on
this very spot, three nights hence: you will not fail?"

"I will not," said Glendower; and pressing Crauford's hand with a
generous and grateful warmth, which might have softened a heart less
obdurate, he turned away.

Folding his arms, while a bitter yet joyous expression crossed his
countenance, Crauford stood still, gazing upon the retreating form of
the noble and unfortunate man whom he had marked for destruction.

"Now," said he, "this virtue is a fine thing, a very fine thing to
talk so loftily about. A little craving of the gastric juices, a
little pinching of this vile body, as your philosophers and saints
call our better part, and, lo! virtue oozes out like water through a
leaky vessel,--and the vessel sinks! No, no; virtue is a weak game,
and a poor game, and a losing game. Why, there is that man, the very