to give, and I cannot show these rags at another man's door."

Pisistratus.--"At nine in the evening, then, and here in the Strand, on
Thursday next. I may then have found some thing that will suit you.
Meanwhile--" slides his purse into the Stranger's hand. N. B.--Purse
not very full.

Stranger, with the air of one conferring a favor, pockets the purse; and
there is something so striking in the very absence of all emotion at so
accidental a rescue from starvation that Pisistratus exclaims,--

"I don't know why I should have taken this fancy to you, Mr. Dare-devil,
if that be the name that pleases you best. The wood you are made of
seems cross-grained, and full of knots; and yet, in the hands of a
skilful carver, I think it would be worth much."

Stranger (startled).--"Do you? Do you? None, I believe, ever thought
that before. But the same wood, I suppose, that makes the gibbet could
make the mast of a man-of-war. I tell you, however, why you have taken
this fancy to me,--the strong sympathize with the strong. You, too,
could subdue fortune!"

Pisistratus.--"Stop! If so, if there is congeniality between us, then
liking should be reciprocal. Come, say that; for half my chance of
helping you is in my power to touch your heart."

Stranger (evidently softened).--"If I were as great a rogue as I ought
to be, my answer would be easy enough. As it is, I delay it. Adieu.--
On Thursday."