"Very well, man, I'll pay you double."

"My price to you is ten shillings."

"Why, what is that for?" asked Seaton in some alarm; he thought, in his
confusion, the man must have read his heart.

"I'll tell ye why," said the squinting barber. "No, I won't. I'll show
ye." He brought a small mirror and suddenly clapped it before Seaton's
eyes. Seaton started at his own image; wild, ghastly, and the eyes so
bloodshot. The barber chuckled. This start was an extorted compliment to
his own sagacity. "Now wasn't I right?" said he; "did I ought to take the
beard off such a mug as that--for less than ten shillings?"

"I see," groaned Seaton; "you think I have committed some crime. One man
sees me weeping with misery; he calls me a drunkard; another sees me pale
with the anguish of my breaking heart; he calls me a felon. May God's
curse light on him and you, and all mankind!"

"All right," said the squinting barber, apathetically; "my price is ten
bob, whether or no."

Seaton felt in his pockets. "I have not got the money about me," said he.

"Oh, I'm not particular; leave your watch."

Seaton handed the squinting vampire his watch without another word and
let his head fall upon his breast.

The barber cut his beard close with the scissors, and made trivial