“Very good, Charley; but I’m sick; and I very much fear that I’ve caught this confounded typhus.”

The next day being that on which the trial took place, he rose not from his bed; and when the time appointed for meeting Travers came he was not at all in anything of an improved condition.  His gig was got ready, however, and, accompanied by Hanlon, he drove to the agent’s office.

Travers was a quick, expert man of business, who lost but little time and few words in his dealings with the world.  He was clear, rapid, and decisive, and having once formed an opinion, there was scarcely any possibility in changing it.  This, indeed, was the worst and most impracticable point about him; for as it often happened that his opinions were based upon imperfect or erroneous data, it consequently followed that his inflexibility was but another name for obstinacy, and not unfrequently for injustice.

As Henderson entered the office, he met our friend the pedlar and old Dalton going out.

“Dalton,” said Travers, “do you and your friend stay in the next room; I wish to see you again before you go.  How do you do, Henderson?”

“I am not well,” replied Henderson, “not at all well; but it won’t signify.”

“How is your father?”

“Much as usual:  I wonder he didn’t call on you.”

“No, he did not, I suppose he’s otherwise engaged—­the assizes always occupy him.  However, now to business, Mr. Henderson;” and he looked inquiringly at Dick, as much as to say, I am ready to hear you.

“We had better see, I think,” proceeded Dick, “and make arrangements about these new leases.”

“I shall expect to be bribed for each of them, Mr. Richard.”

“Bribed!” exclaimed the other, “ha, ha, ha! that’s good.”

“Why, do you think there’s anything morally wrong or dishonorable in a bribe?” asked the other, with a very serious face.

“Come, come, Mr. Travers,” said Dick, “a joke’s a joke; only don’t put so grave a face on you when you ask such a question.  However, as you say yourself, now to business—­about these leases.”

“I trust,” continued Travers, “that I am both an honest man and a gentleman, yet I expect a bribe for every lease.”

“Well, then,” replied Henderson, “it is not generally supposed that either an honest man or a gentleman—­”

“Would take a bribe?—­eh?”

“Well, d—­n it, no; not exactly that either; but come, let us understand each other.  If you will be wilful on it, why a wilful man, they say, must have his way.  Bribery, however—­rank bribery—­is a—­”

“Crime to which neither an honest man nor a gentleman would stoop.  You see I anticipate what you are about to say; you despise bribery, Mr. Henderson?”

“Sir,” replied the other, rather warmly, “I trust that I am a gentleman and an honest man, too.”

“But still, a wilful man, Mr. Henderson must have his way, you know.  Well, of course, you are a gentleman and an honest man.”