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a friend,” said the man, answering in bad English. “Perhaps de friend can advance moneys?”

      “Never mind what he can do,” said Burgo. “You do as you are bid, and leave me.”

      Then the gentleman from the hotel retreated down the hill, but Mr Palliser, during the rest of the interview, frequently fancied that he heard the man’s footfall at no great distance.

      They continued to walk on up the hill very slowly, and it was some time before Mr Palliser knew how to repeat his offer.

      “So Lady Glencora is here?” Burgo said again.

      “Yes, she is here. It was she who asked me to come to you,” Mr Palliser answered. Then they both walked on a few steps in silence, for neither of them knew how to address the other.

      “By George!—isn’t it odd,” said Burgo, at last, “that you and I, of all men in the world, should be walking together here at Baden? It’s not only that you’re the richest man in London, and that I’m the poorest, but—; there are other things, you know, which make it so funny.”

      “There have been things which make me and my wife very anxious to give you aid.”

      “And have you considered, Mr Palliser, that those things make you the very man in the world,—indeed, for the matter of that, the only man in the world,—from whom I can’t take aid. I would have taken it all if I could have got it,—and I tried hard.”

      “I know you have been disappointed, Mr Fitzgerald.”

      “Disappointed! By G––––! yes. Did you ever know any man who had so much right to be disappointed as I have? I did love her, Mr Palliser. Nay, by heavens! I do love her. Out here I will dare to say as much even to you. I shall never try to see her again. All that is over, of course. I’ve been a fool about her as I have been about everything. But I did love her.”

      “I believe it, Mr Fitzgerald.”

      “It was not altogether her money. But think what it would have been to me, Mr Palliser. Think what a chance I had, and what a chance I lost. I should have been at the top of everything,—as now I am at the bottom. I should not have spent that. There would have been enough of it to have saved me. And then I might have done something good instead of crawling about almost in fear of that beast who is watching us.”

      “It has been ordered otherwise,” said Mr Palliser, not knowing what to say.

      “Yes; it has been ordered, with a vengeance! It seems to have been ordered that I’m to go to the devil; but I don’t know who gave the orders, and I don’t know why.”

      Mr Palliser had not time to explain to his friend that the orders had been given, in a very peremptory way, by himself, as he was anxious to bring back the conversation to his own point. He wished to give some serviceable, and, if possible, permanent aid to the poor ne’er-do-well; but he did not wish to talk more than could be helped about his own wife.

      “There is an old saying, which you will remember well,” said he, “that the way to good manners is never too late.”

      “That’s nonsense,” said Burgo. “It’s too late when the man feels the knot round his neck at the Old Bailey.”

      “Perhaps not, even then. Indeed, we may say, certainly not, if the man be still able to take the right way. But I don’t want to preach to you.”

      “It wouldn’t do any good, you know.”

      “But I do want to be of service to you. There is something of truth in what you say. You have been disappointed; and I, perhaps, of all men am the most bound to come to your assistance now that you are in need.”

      “How can I take it from you?” said Burgo, almost crying.

      “You shall take it from her!”

      “No;—that would be worse; twenty times worse. What! take her money, when she would not give me herself!”

      “I do not see why you should not borrow her money,—or mine. You shall call it which you will.”

      “No; I won’t have it.”

      “And what will you do then?”

      “What will I do? Ah! That’s the question. I don’t know what I will do. I have the key of my bedroom in my pocket, and I will go to bed tonight. It’s not very often that I look forward much beyond that.”

      “Will you let me call on you, tomorrow?”

      “I don’t see what good it will do? I shan’t get up till late, for fear they should shut the room against me. I might as well have as much out of them as I can. I think I shall say I’m ill, and keep my bed.”

      “Will you take a few napoleons?”

      “No; not a rap. Not from you. You are the first man from whom I ever refused to borrow money, and I should say that you’ll be about the last to offer to lend it me.”

      “I don’t know what else I can offer?” said Mr Palliser.

      “You can offer nothing. If you will say to your wife from me that I bade her adieu;—that is all you can do for me. Good night, Mr Palliser; good night.”

      Mr Palliser left him and went his way, feeling that he had no further eloquence at his command. He shook Burgo’s hand, and then walked quickly down the hill. As he did so he passed, or would have passed the man who had been dodging them.

      “Misther, Misther!” said the man in a whisper.

      “What do you want of me?” asked Mr Palliser, in French.

      Then the man spoke in French, also. “Has he got any money? Have you given him any money?”

      “I have not given him any money,” said Mr Palliser, not quite knowing what he had better do or say under such circumstances.

      “Then he will have a bad time with it,” said the man. “And he might have carried away two thousand francs just now! Dear, dear, dear! Has he got any friends, sir?”

      “Yes, he has friends. I do not know that I can assist him, or you.”

      “Fitzgerald;—his name is Fitzgerald?”

      “Yes,” said Mr Palliser; “his name is Fitzgerald.”

      “Ah! There are so many Fitzgeralds in England. Mr Fitzgerald, London;—he has no other address?”

      “If he had, and I knew it, I should not give it you without his sanction.”

      “But what shall we do? How shall we act? Perhaps with his own hand he will himself kill. For five weeks his pension he owes; yes, for five weeks. And for wine, oh so much! There came through Baden a my lord, and then, I think he got money. But he went and played. That was of course. But; oh my G––––! he might have carried away this night two thousand francs; yes, two thousand francs!”

      “Are you the hotelkeeper?”

      “His friend, sir; only his friend. That is, I am the head Commissionaire. I look after the gentlemen who sometimes are not all—not all—” exactly what they should be, the commissioner intended to explain; and Mr Palliser understood him although the words were not quite spoken. The interview was ended by Mr Palliser taking the name of the hotel, and promising to call before Mr Fitzgerald should be up in the morning—a purposed visit, which we need not regard as requiring any very early energy on Mr Palliser’s part, when we remember Burgo’s own programme for the following day.

      Lady Glencora received her husband that night with infinite anxiety, and was by no means satisfied with what had been done. He described to her as accurately as he could the nature of his interview with Burgo, and he described to her also his other interview with the head commissioner.

      “He will; he will,” said Lady Glencora;

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