Chapter 22
"Till you've made a good marriage; and you cannot live in style and make a good marriage without my help, my dear Glyddyr."
"You and your cursed fraternity hold plenty of security, so leave me in peace."
"I will, dear boy; but I want my trifle of money, and you are not getting on as fast as I could wish, so I've come to help you."
"Come to ruin me, you mean."
"Wrong. I have my cheque book in my pocket, and if you want a few hundreds to carry on the war, here they are."
"At the old rate," sneered Glyddyr.
"No, my dear fellow. I must have a little more. The risk is big."
"Yes. Might fail, and blow out my brains."
"Ex-actly! How I do like this country cream."
Glyddyr threw himself into his seat with a crash.
"That was all a metaphor," he said bitterly.
"What was, dear boy?"
"About the Devil and Dr Faustus."
"Of course it was. Why?"
"Faustus was some poor devil hard up, and the other was not a devil at all, but a confounded money-lender. It was a bill Faustus accepted, not a contract."
"I daresay you are right, Glyddyr. Have a drop of brandy? Eh? No?
Well, there's nothing like a _cha.s.se_ with a good breakfast, and this is really prime."
"Well, I'll grin and bear it till I'm free," said Glyddyr. "You want to know how I am getting on. You need not stay."
"But I want a change, and I can help you, perhaps."
"You'll queer the whole affair if you stay here.
"That you are an utter beggar--I mean a rum beggar."
"Do you want me to wring your neck?"
"The neck of the goose that lays the golden eggs? No. They don't kill geese that way."
"--The whole affair will be off."
"Old man's a rum one, isn't he?"
"How do you know?"
"How do I know?" said Gellow, with a quiet chuckle. "That's my business. I know everything about you, my dear boy. I have a great personal interest in your proceedings, and every move is reported to me."
"And, to make matters worse, you have yourself come down to play the spy."
"Not a bit of it, my dear Glyddyr; but you have cursed and bullied me at such a tremendous rate, that, as I have you on the hook, I can't help playing you a little."
"Oh!" snarled Glyddyr furiously.
"But, all the same, I am the best friend you have in the world."
"It's a lie!"
"Is it? Well, we shall see. I want you to marry King Gartram's daughter, and I'll let you have all you want to carry it out. And by the way, here are three letters for you."
He took the letters out of his pocket-book, and handed them.
"There you are: Parry Glyddyr, Esq, care of Reuben Gellow, Esq, 209 Cecil Street, Strand."
"Why, they've been opened!"
"Yes, all three--and read."
"You scoundrel!" roared Glyddyr. "Do you dare to sit there and tell me that you have had the effrontery to open my letters and read them?"
"I didn't tell you so."
"But you have read them?"
"Every line."
"Look here, sir," cried Glyddyr, rising fiercely, "I found it necessary to have my letters sent to an agent."
"Reuben Gellow."
"To be forwarded to me where I might be yachting."
"So as to throw your creditors off the scent."
"And you, acting as my agent, have read them."
"In your interest, dear boy."
"Curse you! I don't care what happens now. All is at an end between us, you miserable--"
"Go it, old fellow, if it does you good; but I didn't open the letters."
"Then who did?"