"Mr. da Costa," said the beadle, now arrived too near the imposing figure to venture on familiarities with it. This time the beggar gave indications of restored hearing. "Yes, my man," he said, turning and advancing a few paces to meet the envoy. 
"beckoned with his finger." "Don't go, Grobstock," he called over his shoulder.
"Didn't you hear me calling?" grumbled the beadle.
"I heard you calling da Costa, but I naturally imagined it was one of your drinking companions," replied Manasseh severely.
"The Mahamad is waiting for you," faltered the beadle.
"Tell the gentlemen of the Mahamad," said Manasseh, with reproving emphasis, "that I shall do myself the pleasure of being with them presently.
Nay, pray don't hurry away, my dear Grobstock," he went on, resuming his place at the German magnate's side—"and so your wife is taking the waters at Tunbridge Wells. In faith, 'tis an excellent regimen for the vapours. I am think-
