ful as to forgive me both, and place me here.'

He made a little gesture as though he kissed the hem of an imaginary
garment worn by the noble youth before him. It was humbly done, but
picturesquely, and was not abasing to the doer.

'You won't say more, I see,' said Fledgeby, looking at him as if he
would like to try the effect of extracting a double-tooth or two, 'and
so it's of no use my putting it to you. But confess this, Riah; who
believes you to be poor now?'

'No one,' said the old man.

'There you're right,' assented Fledgeby.

'No one,' repeated the old man with a grave slow wave of his head. 'All
scout it as a fable. Were I to say "This little fancy business is not
mine";' with a lithe sweep of his easily-turning hand around him,
to comprehend the various objects on the shelves; '"it is the little
business of a Christian young gentleman who places me, his servant, in
trust and charge here, and to whom I am accountable for every single
bead," they would laugh. When, in the larger money-business, I tell the
borrowers--'

'I say, old chap!' interposed Fledgeby, 'I hope you mind what you DO
tell 'em?'

'Sir, I tell them no more than I am about to repeat. When I tell them,
"I cannot promise this, I cannot answer for the other, I must see my
principal, I have not the money, I am a poor man and it does not rest
with me," they are so unbelieving and so impatient, that they sometimes
curse me in Jehovah's name.'

'That's deuced good, that is!' said Fascination Fledgeby.

'And at other times they say, "Can it never be done without these
tricks, Mr Riah? Come, come, Mr Riah, we know the arts of your
people"--my people!--"If the money is to be lent, fetch it, fetch it; if
it is not to be lent, keep it and say so." They never believe me.'

'THAT'S all right,' said Fascination Fledgeby.

'They say, "We know, Mr Riah, we know. We have but to look at you, and
we know."'

'Oh, a good 'un are you for the post,' thought Fledgeby, 'and a good 'un
was I to mark you out for it! I may be slow, but I am precious sure.'

Not a syllable of this reflection shaped itself in any scrap of Mr
Fledgeby's breath, lest it should tend to put his servant's price up.
But looking at the old man as he stood quiet with his head bowed and his
eyes cast down, he felt that to relinquish an inch of his baldness,
an inch of his grey hair, an inch of his coat-skirt, an inch of his
hat-brim, an inch of his walking-staff, would be to relinq