money back again, and the double of it, if ye’ll make so free with me. It would be a singular thing for me to keep it. It’s not to be supposed that I would be any hindrance to gentlemen in your situation; that would be a singular thing!” cries he, and began to pull gold out of his pocket with a mighty red face.
Alan said nothing, only looked on the ground.
“Will you step to the door with me, sir?” said I.
Cluny said he would be very glad, and followed me readily enough, but he looked flustered and put out.
“And now, sir,” says I, “I must first acknowledge your generosity.”
“Nonsensical nonsense!” cries Cluny. “Where’s the generosity? This is just a most unfortunate affair; but what would ye have me do—boxed up in this beeskep of a cage of mine—but just set my friends to the cartes, when I can get them? And if they lose, of course, it’s not to be supposed———” And here he came to a pause.
“Yes,” said I, “if they lose, you give them back their money; and if they win, they carry away yours in their pouches! I have said before that I grant your generosity; but to me, sir, it’s a very painful thing to be placed in this position.”
There was a little silence, in which Cluny seemed always as if he was about to speak, but said nothing. All the time he grew redder and redder in the face.
“I am a young man,” said I, “and I ask your
