Prentiss telling him that those rooms had always let for five
guineas a week, which they knew was not true; but they also knew
that in the economy of nations there must always be a higher
price for the rich American, or else why was he given that
strange accent, except to betray him into the hands of the London
shopkeeper, and the London cabby?

The American walked to the window toward the west, which was the
window nearest the Lion, and looked out into the graveyard of St.
James's Church, that stretched between their street and
Piccadilly.

"You're lucky in having a bit of green to look out on," he said
to Prentiss. "I'll take these rooms--at five guineas. That's
more than they're worth, you know, but as I know it, too, your
conscience needn't trouble you."

Then his eyes fell on the Lion, and he nodded to him gravely.
"How do you do?" he said. "I'm coming to live with you for a
little time. I have read about you and your friends over there.
It is a hazard of new fortunes with me, your Majesty, so be kind
to me, and if I win, I will put a new coat of paint on your
shield and gild you all over again."

Prentiss smiled obsequiously at the American's pleasantry, but
the new lodger only stared at him.

"He seemed a social gentleman," said the Unicorn, that night,
when the Lion and he were talking it over. "Now the Captain, the
whole time he was here, never gave us so much as a look. This