pounds of gold. But what's the use of describing it? Some lucky demon
will pick it up and pocket the lot, and I shall never see a cent of it
again."

"Then you'd better consult one who reburnishes the eyes," declared
the magnanimous one with a laugh, and drawing forth the article
referred to he cast it towards the merchant in a small way.

At this point of the narrative my thoroughly incompetent brush
confesses the proportions of the requirement to be beyond its most
extended limit, and many very honourable details are necessarily left
without expression.

"I've known men of all sorts, good, bad, and bothwise," exclaimed the
one who had recovered his possessions; "but I never thought to meet a
gent as would hand over six hundred and fifty pounds as if it was a
toothpick. Sir, it overbalances me; it does, indeed."

"Say no more about it," urged the first person, and to suggest
gracefully that the incident had reached its furthest extremity, he
began to set out the melody of an unspoken verse.

"I will say no more, then," he replied; "but you cannot reasonably
prevent my doing something to express my gratitude. If you are not too
proud you will come and partake of food and wine with me beneath the
sign of the Funereal Male Cow, and to show my confidence in you I
shall insist upon you carrying my pocket-book."

The person whom I had first encountered suffered his face to become
excessively amused. "Say, stranger, do you take me for a pack-mule?"