‘And you’ve no security?’

’Not a rag, not a shred, not a line, not an acre.  There’s my salary, and after paying Gazebee what comes due to him, I can manage to let you have the money within twelve months—­that is, if you can lend it to me.  I can just do that and live; and if you will assist me with the money, I will do so.  That’s what I’ve brought myself to by my own folly.’

‘Five hundred pounds is such a large sum of money.’

‘Indeed it is.’

‘And without any security!’

’I know, Butterwell, that I’ve no right to ask for it.  I feel that.  Of course I should pay you what interest you please.’

‘Money’s about seven now,’ said Butterwell.

‘I’ve not the slightest objection to seven per cent.,’ said Crosbie.

‘But that’s on security,’ said Butterwell.

‘You can name your own terms,’ said Crosbie.

Mr Butterwell got out of his chair, and walked about the room with his hands in his pockets.  He was thinking at the moment of what Mrs Butterwell would say to him.  ‘Will an answer do tomorrow morning?’ he said.  ‘I would much rather have it today,’ said Crosbie.  Then Mr Butterwell took another turn about the room.  ’I suppose I must let you have it.’

‘Butterwell,’ said Crosbie, ’I’m eternally obliged to you.  It’s hardly too much to say that you have saved me from ruin.’

‘Of course I was joking about interest,’ said Butterwell.  ’Five per cent. is the proper thing.  You’d better let me have a little acknowledgement.  I’ll give you the first half tomorrow.’

They were genuine tears which filled Crosbie’s eyes, as he seized hold of the senior’s hands.  ‘Butterwell,’ he said, ‘what am I to say to you?’

‘Nothing at all—­nothing at all.’

‘Your kindness makes me feel that I ought not to have come to you.’

’Oh, nonsense.  By-the-by, would you mind telling Thompson to bring those papers to me which I gave him yesterday?  I promised Optimist I would read them before three, and it’s past two now.’  So saying he sat himself down at his table, and Crosbie felt that he was bound to leave the room.

Mr Butterwell, when he was left alone, did not read the papers which Thompson brought him; but said, instead, thinking of his five hundred pounds.  ‘Just put them down,’ he said to Thompson.  So the papers were put down, and there they lay all that day and all the next.  Then Thompson took them away again, and it is to be hoped that somebody read them.  Five hundred pounds!  It was a large sum of money, and Crosbie was a man for whom Mr Butterwell in truth felt no very strong affection.  ’Of course he must have it now,’ he said to himself.  ’But where should I be if anything should happen to him?’ And then he remembered that Mrs Butterwell especially disliked Mr Crosbie—­disliked him because she knew that he snubbed her husband.  ’But it’s hard to refuse, when one man has known another for more than ten years.’