himself and laughed slightly.

"Forgotten you? I'm not very likely to forget you, my boy. Well, what do
you want?"

"I want that two thousand pounds."

His hand still clutched Oliver's arm, and the grasp was becoming
unpleasant.

"Can you not take your hand off my arm?" said the younger man, coolly.
"I'm not going to run away. Apropos, what have you been doing with
yourself all these weeks! I thought you had given us the slip
altogether."

"I want my money," said Francis, doggedly.

Oliver looked at him curiously. What did this persistence mean? What
money was he thinking about?

"Your money?" he repeated.

"Yes, my money--the money you ought to have given me by this time--where
is it?"

"You mean the sum I promised you on my wedding-day?"

Francis nodded, with a rather confused look upon his face.

"My wedding-day has not occurred yet," said Oliver, lightly. "Upon my
word, I doubt whether it ever will occur. Don't alarm yourself, Francis.
I shall get the money for you before long--I've not forgotten it."

"I want it now. Two thousand pounds," said Francis, thickly.

"Are you drunk, man! Do you think I carry two thousand pounds about with
me in my pocket? Go home--I'll see you again when you are sober."

"I have touched nothing but water to-day," said his brother. "I swear
it--so help me, God! I know what I'm about. And I know _you_. I know you
for the vilest cheat and trickster that ever walked the earth. I've been
in hospital--I don't know how long. I know that you would cheat me if
you could. You were to pay me within six months--and it's over six
months now."

"I tell you I'm not married. I was to pay you on my wedding-day."

"You were to pay me within six months. Have you opened a bank account
for me and paid in the two thousand pounds?"

"Are you mad, Francis?"

"Mad?--I may well be mad after all you have made me suffer. I tell you I
want money--money--money--I want two thousand pounds."

His voice rose almost to a shriek, and the sound reverberated along the
quiet street with startling effect. Oliver shrank into himself a little,
and gave a hurried glance around him. They were still in Upper Woburn
Place, and he was afraid that the noise should excite remark. It was
plain to him that Francis was either drunk or out of his mind, and he
therefore concentrated his attention on getting quietly away from him,
or leading him to some more secluded spot.

"Look here," he said, in a conciliatory