“Of course.  Then the matter is at an end.”

“Well, we might even now do business.  I am most anxious to be of use to you.  How long do you think, doctor, that this gentleman will in all probability live?”

“Well, well, it’s rather a delicate question to answer,” said Dr. Proudie, with a show of embarrassment.

“Not a bit, sir.  Out with it!  I have faced death too often to flinch from it now, though I saw it as near me as you are.”

“Well, well, we must go by averages of course.  Shall we say two years?  I should think that you have a full two years before you.”

“In two years your pension would bring you in L1,600.  Now I will do my very best for you, Admiral!  I will advance you L2,000, and you can make over to me your pension for your life.  It is pure speculation on my part.  If you die to-morrow I lose my money.  If the doctor’s prophecy is correct I shall still be out of pocket.  If you live a little longer, then I may see my money again.  It is the very best I can do for you.”

“Then you wish to buy my pension?”

“Yes, for two thousand down.”

“And if I live for twenty years?”

“Oh, in that case of course my speculation would be more successful.  But you have heard the doctor’s opinion.”

“Would you advance the money instantly?”

“You should have a thousand at once.  The other thousand I should expect you to take in furniture.”

“In furniture?”

“Yes, Admiral.  We shall do you a beautiful houseful at that sum.  It is the custom of my clients to take half in furniture.”

The Admiral sat in dire perplexity.  He had come out to get money, and to go back without any, to be powerless to help when his boy needed every shilling to save him from disaster, that would be very bitter to him.  On the other hand, it was so much that he surrendered, and so little that he received.  Little, and yet something.  Would it not be better than going back empty-handed?  He saw the yellow backed chequebook upon the table.  The moneylender opened it and dipped his pen into the ink.

“Shall I fill it up?” said he.

“I think, Admiral,” remarked Westmacott, “that we had better have a little walk and some luncheon before we settle this matter.”

“Oh, we may as well do it at once.  It would be absurd to postpone it now,” Metaxa spoke with some heat, and his eyes glinted angrily from between his narrow lids at the imperturbable Charles.  The Admiral was simple in money matters, but he had seen much of men and had learned to read them.  He saw that venomous glance, and saw too that intense eagerness was peeping out from beneath the careless air which the agent had assumed.

“You’re quite right, Westmacott,” said he.  “We’ll have a little walk before we settle it.”

“But I may not be here this afternoon.”

“Then we must choose another day.”