"Better than I should be, Banks, for I have no money," I said, wondering
if he thought me a first-floor lodger.

He made no immediate reply to that, either, but seemed more uneasy still.
And I took occasion to note his appearance. He was exceeding neat in a
livery of his old master, which he had stripped of the trimmings. Then,
before I had guessed at his drift, he thrust his hand inside his coat and
drew forth a pile of carefully folded bank notes.

"I be a single man, sir, and has small need of this. And and I knows
your honour will pay me when your letter comes from America."

And he handed me five Bank of England notes of ten pounds apiece. I took
them mechanically, without knowing what I did. The generosity of the act
benumbed my senses, and for the instant I was inclined to accept the
offer upon the impulse of it.

"How do you know you would get your money again, Banks?" I asked
curiously.

"No fear, sir," he replied promptly, actually brightening at the
prospect. "I knows gentlemen, sir, them that are such, sir. And I will
go to America with you, and you say the word, sir."

I was more touched than I cared to show over his offer, which I scarce
knew how to refuse. In truth it was a difficult task, for he pressed me
again and again, and when he saw me firm, turned away to wipe his eyes
upon his sleeve. Then he begged me to let him remain and serve me in the
sponginghouse, saying that he would pay his own way. The very thought of