sorry for it.
Amongst other little tales, he said you used to borrow money from
Jews--he knew it for a certainty because he had been asked
himself to join you and another man--meaning me, of course--in
such a transaction. You remember how he wouldn't acknowledge the
money I lent him at play, and the note he wrote me which upset
Blake so. I had never forgotten it. I knew I should get my chance
some day, and here it was. I don't know what the girl thought of
me, or how she got out of the balcony, but I stepped into the
recess just as he had finished his precious story, and landed
between him and a comfortable old boy, who was looking shocked.
He _must_ be your godfather, or something of the kind. I'll bet
you a pony you are down for something handsome in his will."

"What was his name? Did you find out?"

"Yes; Potter, or Porter, or something like it. I've got his card
somewhere. I just stared St. Cloud in the face, and you may
depend upon it he winched. Then I told the old boy that I had
heard their talk, and, as I was at St. Ambrose with you, I should
like to have five minutes with him when St. Cloud had done. He
seemed rather in a corner between us. However, I kept in sight
till St. Cloud was obliged to draw off; and, to cut my story
short, as the tankard is empty, I think I put you pretty straight
there. You said we were quits just now; after last night, perhaps
we are, for I told him the truth of the Benjamin story, and I
think he is squared. He seems a good sort of old boy. He's a
relation of yours, eh?"

"Only a distant connexion. Did anything more happen?"

"Yes; I saw that he was flurried and didn't know quite what to
think; so I asked him to let me call, and I would bring him some
one else to speak to your character. He gave me his card, and I'm
going to take Blake there today. Then I asked him where you were,
and he didn't know, but said he thought Grey could tell me."

"It is very kind of you, Drysdale to take so much trouble."

"Trouble! I'd go from here to Jericho to be even with our fine
friend. I never forget a bad turn. I met him afterwards in the
cloak-room, and went out of the door close after him, to give him
a chance if he wants to say anything. I only wish he would. But
why do you suppose he is lying about you?"

"I can't tell. I've never spoken to him since he left Oxford.
Never saw him till yesterday, riding with Mr. Porter. I suppose
that reminded them of me."

"Well, St. Cloud is bent