"Ah, Beverley, my boy!" he cried heartily, "pray forgive this
horribly unseasonable visit, but--under the circumstances--I felt it
my duty to--ah--to drop in on you, my dear fellow."
"What circumstances?" demanded Barnabas, a little stiffly, perhaps.
"Circumstances affecting our friend Barrymaine, sir."
"Ah?" said Barnabas, his tone changing, "what of him? though you
forget, Mr. Barrymaine and I are still strangers."
"By heaven, you are right, sir, though, egad! I'm only a little
previous,--eh, my dear fellow?" and, smiling engagingly, Mr. Smivvle
followed Barnabas into a side room, and shutting the door with
elaborate care, immediately shook his whiskers and heaved a profound
sigh. "My friend Barrymaine is low, sir,--devilish low," he
proceeded to explain, "indeed I'm quite distressed for the poor
fellow, 'pon my soul and honor I am,--for he is--in a manner of
speaking--in eclipse as it were, sir!"
"I fear I don't understand," said Barnabas.
"Why, then--in plain words, my dear Beverley,--he's suffering from
an acute attack of the Jews, dammem!--a positive seizure, sir!"
"Do you mean he has been taken--for debt?"
"Precisely, my dear fellow. An old affair--ages ago--a stab in the
dark! Nothing very much, in fact a mere bagatelle, only, as luck
will have it, I am damnably short myself just now."
"How much is it?"
"Altogether exactly twenty-five pound ten. An absurd sum, but all my
odd cash is on the race. So I ventured here on my young friend's
behalf to ask for a trifling loan,--a pound--or say thirty shillings
would be something."
Barnabas crossed to a cabinet, unlocked a drawer, and taking thence
a smallish bag that jingled, began to count out a certain sum upon
the table.
"You said twenty-five pounds ten, I think?" said Barnabas, and
pushed that amount across the table. Mr. Smivvle stared from the
money to Barnabas and back again, and felt for his whisker with
fumbling fingers.
"Sir," he said, "you can't--you don't mean to--to--"
"Yes," said Barnabas, turning to re-lock the drawer. Mr. Smivvle's
hand dropped from his whiskers, indeed, for the moment he almost
seemed to have forgotten their existence.
"Sir," he stammered, "I cannot allow--no indeed, sir! Mr. Beverley,
you overwhelm me--"
"Debts are necessary evils," said Barnabas, "and must be paid."
Mr. Smivvle stared at Barnabas, his brow furrowed by perplexity,
--stared like one who is suddenly at a loss; and indeed his usual
knowing air was quite gone. Then, dropping his gaze to the money on
the table, he swept it into his pocket, almost furtively, and took
up his hat and cane, and, it is worthy of note, that he did it all
without a flourish.
"Mr. Beverley," said he, "in the name of my friend Barrymaine, I
thank you, and--I--I thank you!" So he turned and went out of the
room, and, as he went, he even forgot to swagger.