“And so you are turned Jew?” says he, tapping his snuffbox.  “Before you go ahead so fast again, you will please to remember, d—­n you, that Mr. Carvel is the kind that does not lose his friends with his fortune.”

Mr. Dix made a salaam, which was so ludicrous in a squire that my Lord roared with laughter, and I feared for his wound.

“A man must live, my Lord,” sputtered the agent.  His discomfiture was painful.

“At the expense of another,” says Comyn, dryly.  “That is your motto in Change Alley.”

“If you will permit, Jack, I must have a few words in private with Mr. Dix,” I cut in uneasily.

His Lordship would be damned first.  “I am not accustomed to be thwarted, Richard, I tell you.  Ask the dowager if I have not always had my way.  I am not going to stand by and see a man who saved my life fall into the clutches of an usurer.  Yes, I said usurer, Mr. Dix.  My attorney, Mr. Kennett, of Lincoln’s Inn, has instructions to settle with you.”

And, despite all I could say, he would not budge an inch.  At last I submitted under the threat that he would never after have a word to say to me.  By good luck, when I had paid into Mr. Dix’s hand the thousand pounds I had received from Charles Fox, and cleared my outstanding bills, the sum I remained in Comyn’s debt was not greatly above seven hundred pounds.  And that was the end of Mr. Dix for me; when he had backed himself out in chagrin at having lost his ten per centum, my feelings got the better of me.  The water rushed to my eyes, and I turned my back upon his Lordship.  To conceal his own emotions he fell to swearing like mad.

“Fox will get you something,” he said at length, when he was a little calmed.

I told him, sadly, that my duty took me to America.

“And Dorothy?” he said; “you will leave her?”

I related the whole miserable story (all save the part of the locket), for I felt that I owed it him.  His excitement grew as he listened, until I had to threaten to stop to keep him quiet.  But when I had done, he saw nothing but good to come of it.

“’Od’s life!  Richard, lad, come here!” he cried.  “Give me your hand.  Why, you ass, you have won a thousand times over what you lost.  She loves you!  Did I not say so?  And as for that intriguing little puppy, her father, you have pulled his teeth, egad.  She heard what you said to him, you tell me.  Then he will never deceive her again, my word on’t.  And Chartersea may come back to London, and be damned.”

CHAPTER XLIII

ANNAPOLIS ONCE MORE