"At that hour, or not at all," said John Law, calmly. "At that time I
shall perhaps be at my lodgings, 59 Bradwell Street, West. As I have
said to you, I am not clad as I could wish. It is not a matter of your
convenience, but of mine own."

"But, sir," expostulated the other, "you order of the best. Nothing, I
am sure, save the utmost of good workmanship would please you. I should
like a month of time upon these garments, in order to make them worthy
of yourself. Moreover, there are orders of the nobility already in our
hands will occupy us more than past the time you name. Make it three
weeks, sir, and I promise--"

His customer only shook his head and reiterated, "You heard me well."

The tailor, sore puzzled, not wishing to lose a customer who came so
well recommended, and yet hesitating at the exactions of that customer,
sat with perplexity written upon his brow.

"So!" exclaimed Law. "Sir Arthur Pembroke told me that you were a clever
fellow and could execute exact any order I might give you. Now it
appears to me you are like everybody else. You prate only of hardships
and of impossibilities."

The perspiration fairly stood out on the forehead of the man of trade.

"Sir," said he, "I should be glad to please not only a friend of Sir
Arthur Pembroke, but also a gentleman of such parts as yourself. I
hesitate to promise--"