-what I have now, not quite three
hundred.'

'My boy, you've been going it,' remarked Rolfe, with a clouded brow.

'That's what I tell you. I want to get out of all that kind of thing.
Now, how am I to get two or three hundred honestly? I think Denbow
would take less than he says for cash down. But the stock, I guarantee,
is worth two hundred.'

'You have the first offer?'

'Till day after tomorrow--Monday.'

'Tomorrow's Sunday--that's awkward. Never mind. If I come over in the
morning, will you take me to the place, and let me look over it with
you, and see both Denbow and the shopman?'

'Of course I will!' said Morphew delightedly. 'It's all aboveboard.
There's a devilish good business to be made; it depends only on the
man. Why, Denbow has made as much as two hundred in a year out of
printing for amateurs alone. It's his own fault that he didn't keep it
up. I swear, Rolfe, that with capital and hard work and acuteness, that
place can be made _the_ establishment of the kind south of the Thames.
Why, there's no reason why one shouldn't net a thousand a year in a
very short time.'

'Is Denbow willing to exhibit his books?'

'Of course he is. I've seen them. It isn't speculative, you know;
honest, straightforward business.'

'What part do you propose to take in it yourself?'

'Why, Denbow's part--without the betting. I shall go in for the
business for all I'm worth; work day and night. And look here, Rolfe.
It isn't as if I had no security to offer. You see, I have my private
income; that gives me a pull over the ordinary man of business just
starting. Suppose I borrow three--four--five hundred pounds; why, I can
afford to make over stock or receipts--anything in that way--to the
lender. Four per cent, that's what I offer, if it's a simple loan.'

'You would keep the man--what's his name?'

'Hobcraft. Decidedly. Couldn't do without him. He has been having
thirty-five shillings a week.'

Harvey rose, and led the way to the smoking-room. His companion had
become a new man; the glow of excitement gave him a healthier look, and
he talked more like the Cecil Morphew of earlier days, whom Rolfe had
found and befriended at the hotel in Brussels.

'There's nothing to be ashamed of in a business of this kind. If only
her father was dead, I'm sure _she_ wouldn't mind it.--Ah, Rolfe, if
only she and I, both of us, had had a little more courage! Do you know
what I think? It's the weak people that do most harm in th