He extended his bony and discoloured fingers, and placed the note in my
hand. Oh, Fortune and Plutus! It was a £100 bank-note.

"Pray, not one word, my dear sir," he continued, unbending still further;
"it is simply done pursuant to agreement. We shall know one another
better, I hope, in a little time; you will find me always equally
punctual. At present pray give yourself no further trouble; I require
nothing more. Good night."

I returned the valediction, closed his door, and groped my way down the
stairs. It was not until I had nearly reached the hall, that I
recollected that I had omitted to ask our new inmate at what hour he
would desire to be called in the morning, and so I groped my way back
again. As I reached the lobby on which his chamber opened, I perceived a
long line of light issuing from the partially-opened door, within which
stood Mr. Smith, the same odd figure I had just left; while along the
boards was creeping towards him across the lobby, a great, big-headed,
buff-coloured cat. I had never seen this ugly animal before; and it had
reached the threshold of his door, arching its back, and rubbing itself
on the post, before either appeared conscious of my approach, when, with
an angry growl, it sprang into the stranger's room.

"What do you want?" he demanded, sharply, standing in the doorway.

I explained my errand.

"I shall call myself," was his sole reply; and he shut the door with a
crash that indicated no very pleasurable emotions.