t carry the jest too far.
You will not maltreat me. My partner, Sir Giles Mompesson, will be here
anon, and will requite any outrage committed upon me."

"Sir Giles is impatiently expected by us," a spruce coxcomb near him
replied. "Madame Bonaventure had prepared us for his coming. We will
give him the welcome he deserves."

"Ah! traitress! then it was all planned," Sir Francis thought;--"and,
blind owl that I am, I have fallen into the snare."

But the poor knight was nearly at his wit's end with fright, when he saw
Lord Roos quit his place at the upper table and approach him.

CHAPTER VII.

How Lord Roos obtained Sir Francis Mitchell's signature.

"What, my prince of usurers!" exclaimed Lord Roos, in a mocking tone;
"my worthy money-lender, who never takes more than cent. per cent., and
art ill content with less; who never exacts more than the penalty of thy
bond,--unless more may be got; who never drives a hard bargain with a
needy man--by thine own account; who never persecutes a debtor--as the
prisons shall vouch for thee; who art just in all thy transactions--as
every man who hath had dealings with thee will affirm; and who knows not
how to lie, to cheat, to cozen--as some usurers do."

"You are pleasant, my lord," Sir Francis replied.

"I mean to be so," Lord Roos said; "for I esteem thee for thy rare
qualities. I know not thy peer for cunning and knavery. Thy mischievous
schemes are so well-conceived that they prove thee to have an absolute
genius for villany. Scruples thou hast none; and considerations and
feelings which might move men less obdurate than thyself, have no
influence over thee. To ruin a man is with thee mere pastime; and groans
of the oppressed are music in thine ears."

"Aha! a good jest. You were always merry with me, my lord."

"Yes, when I borrowed money from thee--but not when I had to repay it
twice over. I laughed not then; but was foolish enough to threaten to
take thy life. My anger is past now. But we must drink together--a
rousing toast."

"At your lordship's pleasure," Sir Francis replied.

"Cyprien! a flask of wine, and thy largest goblet," Lord Roos cried.
"'Tis well! Now pour the whole into the flagon. Do me reason in this
cup, Sir Francis?"

"What! in this mighty cup, my lord?" the knight replied. "Nay, 'tis too
much, I swear. If I become drunken, the sin will lie at your door."

"Off with it! without more ado. And let the toast be what thou
practisest--'