The arrest is made on the person of your father, luckily made while
the breath is still in the body--Yes--start forward to strike me, if
you dare--Your father, Sir John Berryl, sick or well, is my prisoner."

Lady Berryl and Mr. Berryl's sisters, in an agony of grief, rushed
into the room.

"It's all useless," cried Mordicai, turning his back upon the ladies:
"these tricks upon creditors won't do with me; I'm used to these
scenes; I'm not made of such stuff as you think. Leave a gentleman in
peace in his last moments--No! he ought not, nor sha'n't die in peace,
if he don't pay his debts; and if you are all so mighty sorry, ladies,
there's the gentleman you may kneel to: if tenderness is the order of
the day, it's for the son to show it, not me. Ay, now, Mr. Berryl,"
cried he, as Mr. Berryl took up the bond to sign it, "you're beginning
to know I'm not a fool to be trifled with. Stop your hand, if you
choose it, sir,--it's all the same to me: the person, or the money,
I'll carry with me out of this house."

Mr. Berryl signed the bond, and threw it to him.

"There, monster!--quit the house!"

"_Monster_ is not actionable--I wish you had called me _knave_,"
said Mordicai, grinning a horrible smile; and taking up the bond
deliberately, returned it to Mr. Berryl: "This paper is worth nothing
to me, sir--it is not witnessed."

Mr. Berryl hastily left the room, and returned with Lord Colambre.
Mordicai changed countenance and grew pale, for a moment, at sight of