“Do you want to follow my cigar?” he demanded.

“I should prefer to depart by the usual way for your sake,” returned the other, unabashed.  “If I left by the window all sorts of questions would be asked, and you know what a talkative chap I am.”

“So long as you don’t talk about my affairs,” returned the other, restraining himself by an obvious effort, “you can talk yourself hoarse.”

“I’m in a mess,” said Carr, slowly, “a devil of a mess.  If I don’t raise fifteen hundred by this day fortnight, I may be getting my board and lodging free.”

“Would that be any change?” questioned Benson.

“The quality would,” retorted the other.  “The address also would not be good.  Seriously, Jem, will you let me have the fifteen hundred?”

“No,” said the other, simply.

Carr went white.  “It’s to save me from ruin,” he said, thickly.

“I’ve helped you till I’m tired,” said Benson, turning and regarding him, “and it is all to no good.  If you’ve got into a mess, get out of it.  You should not be so fond of giving autographs away.”

“It’s foolish, I admit,” said Carr, deliberately.  “I won’t do so any more.  By the way, I’ve got some to sell.  You needn’t sneer.  They’re not my own.”

“Whose are they?” inquired the other.

“Yours.”

Benson got up from his chair and crossed over to him.  “What is this?” he asked, quietly.  “Blackmail?”

“Call it what you like,” said Carr.  “I’ve got some letters for sale, price fifteen hundred.  And I know a man who would buy them at that price for the mere chance of getting Olive from you.  I’ll give you first offer.”

“If you have got any letters bearing my signature, you will be good enough to give them to me,” said Benson, very slowly.

“They’re mine,” said Carr, lightly; “given to me by the lady you wrote them to.  I must say that they are not all in the best possible taste.”

His cousin reached forward suddenly, and catching him by the collar of his coat pinned him down on the table.

“Give me those letters,” he breathed, sticking his face close to Carr’s.

“They’re not here,” said Carr, struggling.  “I’m not a fool.  Let me go, or I’ll raise the price.”

The other man raised him from the table in his powerful hands, apparently with the intention of dashing his head against it.  Then suddenly his hold relaxed as an astonished-looking maid-servant entered the room with letters.  Carr sat up hastily.

“That’s how it was done,” said Benson, for the girl’s benefit as he took the letters.

“I don’t wonder at the other man making him pay for it, then,” said Carr, blandly.

“You will give me those letters?” said Benson, suggestively, as the girl left the room.

“At the price I mentioned, yes,” said Carr; “but so sure as I am a living man, if you lay your clumsy hands on me again, I’ll double it.  Now, I’ll leave you for a time while you think it over.”