ares."

"Levy," said Egerton coldly, though a deep blush overspread his face,
"you are a scoundrel; that is your look out. I interfere with no man's
tastes and consciences. I don't intend to be a scoundrel myself. I have
told you that long ago."

The Baron laughed, without evincing the least displeasure.

"Well," said he, "you are neither wise nor complimentary; but you shall
have the money. But yet, would it not be better," added Levy, with
emphasis, "to borrow it, without interest, of your friend L'Estrange?"

Egerton started as if stung.

"You meant to taunt me, sir!" he exclaimed passionately. "I accept
pecuniary favors from Lord L'Estrange! I!"

"Tut, my dear Egerton, I dare say my Lord would not think so ill now of
that little act in your life which--"

"Hold!" exclaimed Egerton, writhing. "Hold!"

He stopped, and paced the room, muttering in broken sentences, "To blush
before this man! Chastisement, chastisement!"

Levy gazed on him with hard and sinister eyes. The minister turned
abruptly.

"Look you, Levy," said he, with forced composure--"you hate me--why, I
know not. I have never injured you--never avenged the inexpiable wrong
you did me."

"Wrong!--you a man of the world! Wrong! Call it so if you will then," he
added shrinkingly, for Audley's brow grew terrible. "But have I not
atoned it? Would you ever have lived in this palace, and ruled this
country as one of the most influential of its ministers, but for my
management--my whispers to the wealthy Miss Leslie? Come, but for me
what would you have been--perhaps a beggar?"

"What shall I be now if I live? _Then_ I should not have been a beggar;
poor perhaps in money, but rich--rich in all that now leaves my life
bankrupt. Gold has not thriven with me; how should it. And this
fortune--it has passed for the main part into your hands. Be patient,
you will have it all ere long. But there is one man in the world who has
loved me from a boy, and wo to you if ever he learn that he has the
right to despise me!"

"Egerton, my good fellow," said Levy, with great composure, "you need
not threaten me, for what interest can I possibly have in tale-telling
to Lord L'Estrange? As to hating you--pooh! You snub me in private, you
cut me in public, you refuse to come to my dinners, you'll not ask me to
your own; still there is no man I like better, nor would more willingly
serve. When do you want the L5000?"

"Perhaps in one month, perhaps not for three or f