f refusing. I suppose a fellow may
be a little surprised at such a thing."

"I don't know why you need be surprised, as such things are very
common. I happen to have taken a share in a loan a little beyond my
immediate means, and therefore want a few hundreds. There is no one I
can ask with a better grace than you. If you ain't--afraid about it,
just sign it."

"Oh, I ain't afraid," said Sexty, taking his pen and writing his name
across the bill. But even before the signature was finished, when
his eye was taken away from the face of his companion and fixed upon
the disagreeable piece of paper beneath his hand, he repented of
what he was doing. He almost arrested his signature half-way. He did
hesitate, but had not pluck enough to stop his hand. "It does seem to
be a d----d odd transaction all the same," he said as he leaned back
in his chair.

"It's the commonest thing in the world," said Lopez picking up
the bill in a leisurely way, folding it and putting it into his
pocket-book. "Have our names never been together on a bit of paper
before?"

"When we both had something to make by it."

"You've nothing to make and nothing to lose by this. Good day and
many thanks;--though I don't think so much of the affair as you seem
to do." Then Ferdinand Lopez took his departure and Sexty Parker was
left alone in his bewilderment.

"By George,--that's queer," he said to himself. "Who'd have thought
of Lopez being hard up for a few hundred pounds? But it must be all
right. He wouldn't have come in that fashion, if it hadn't been all
right. I oughtn't to have done it though! A man ought never to do
that kind of thing;--never,--never!" And Mr. Sextus Parker was much
discontented with himself, so that when he got home that evening to
the wife of his bosom and his little family at Ponders End, he by
no means made himself agreeable to them. For that sum of L750 sat
upon his bosom as he ate his supper, and lay upon his chest as he
slept,--like a nightmare.

CHAPTER II

Everett Wharton

On that same day Lopez dined with his friend Everett Wharton at a
new club called the Progress, of which they were both members. The
Progress was certainly a new club, having as yet been open hardly
more than three years; but still it was old enough to have seen many
of the hopes of its early youth become dim with age and inaction.
For the Progress had intended to do great things for the Liberal
party,--or rather for political liberal