Chapter 21
"Best enemy; you are always hunting me for money."
"Yes; and going back poorer. You are such a one to wheedle a fresh loan."
"Yes; at a hundred per cent."
"Tchah! Nonsense! But, I say, nothing wrong about the lady, is there?"
"Hold your tongue, and mind your own business."
"Well, that is my business, you reckless young dog. If you don't make a rich match, where shall I be?"
"Here, what are you doing?"
"Ringing the bell, dear boy."
"What for?"
"Well, that's fool. I have come all this way from town, had no end of trouble to run you down at your hotel, and then you think I don't want any breakfast."
"Yes, sir."
"Mr Glyddyr wants breakfast in directly. Here, what have you got? No, never mind what you've got. I'll have broiled chicken and a sole. A fresh chicken cut up, mind; none of your week-old, cooked stales.
Coffee and brandy. Mr Glyddyr's order, you know."
The waiter glanced at Glyddyr where he sat pretending to read the paper, and receiving a short nod, he left the room.
"Now, once more, why have you come down?"
"First and foremost, I have picked up three or four good tips for Newmarket. Chances for you to make a pile."
"You are very generous," sneered Glyddyr. "Your tips have not turned out so very rosy--so far."
"Well, of course it's speculation. Have a cigar?"
Glyddyr made an impatient gesture.
"Then I will. Give me an appet.i.te for the dejooney."
The speaker lit a strong cigar that had an East London aroma, and went on chatting as he lolled back in his chair, and played with his enormously thick watch-chain.
"A smoke always gives me an appet.i.te; spoils some people's. Well, you won't take the tips?"
"No; I've no money for betting."
"Happy to oblige you, dear boy. Eh? No! All right. Glad you are so independent. It's going on bloomingly, then?"
"What do you mean?"
"The miller's lovely daughter," sang the visitor, laughingly. "I mean the stonemason's."
Glyddyr muttered
"Hus.h.!.+ Don't swear, dear boy--the waiter."
For at that moment the man brought in a tray, busied himself for a time till all was ready, and left the room.
"That's your sort," said Glyddyr's visitor, settling himself at the table. "Won't join me, I suppose? Won't have an echo?"
"What do you mean?"
"Second breakfast. Eh? No? All right. Hah! Very appetising after a long journey--confoundedly long journey. You do put up in such out of the way spots. Quite hard to find."
"Then stop away."
"No, thanks. Now look here, Glyddyr, dear boy, what's the use of your cutting up rusty when we are obliged to row so much in the same boat?"
"Curse you! I'd like to throw you overboard."
"Of course you would, my dear fellow, but you see you can't. Rather an awkward remark though, that, when I'm coming for a cruise with you in the yacht--my yacht."
Glyddyr crushed up the newspaper into a ball, and cast it across to the corner of the room.
"What's the matter, old man? I say, what a delicious sole! Ever catch any on the yacht?"
The sound of Glyddyr's teeth grating could be plainly heard.
"Be no good to throw me overboard to feed the fishes, my dear boy. I'm thoroughly well insured, both as to money--and protection," he added meaningly. "Hope this fish was not fed in that peculiar way. _Tlat_!
Capital coffee. Now then, talk. I can eat and listen. How is it going on with the girl?"
"Reuben Gellow, your insolence is insufferable."
"My dear Gellow, I must have a thou, to-morrow," said the visitor, mockingly. "Your words, dear boy, when you want money; the other when you don't want money. What a contrast! Well, I don't care. Capital b.u.t.ter this! It shows me that everything is progressing well with the pretty heiress, and that Parry Glyddyr, Esquire, will pay his debts like a gentleman. Come, old fellow, don't twist about in your chair like a skinned eel."
"Curse you, who skinned me?"
"Not I, dear boy. Half a dozen had had a turn at you, and that lovely epi--what-you-may-call-it of yours was hanging upon you in rags. I only stripped the rest off, so as to give you a chance to grow a new one, and I'm helping you to do it as fast as you can. Come, don't cut up rough.
Be civil, and I'll keep you going in style so that you can marry her all right, and have two children and live happy ever after."
"Look here," said Glyddyr, getting up and pacing the room furiously, while his visitor calmly discussed his breakfast, "you have something under all this, so open it out."
"No, dear boy, only the natural desire to see how you are getting on.
You owe me--"
"Curse what I owe you!"
"No, no, don't do that. Pay it."
"You know I cannot."