tone. Because that is the exact amount which at present
makes me fear to look my fellow-man in the face."
I simply stared.
"Jasper, you are singularly dense, or much success has turned your
brain. Say, Jasper, that success has not turned your brain."
"Not that I know of," I replied.
"Very well, then," said Tom, stepping to the bed and pulling back the
counterpane with much mystery. "Oblige me by counting this sum,
first the notes, then the gold, and finally the silver. Or, if that
is too much trouble, reflect that on this modest couch recline
bank-notes for three thousand one hundred and twenty pounds, gold
sovereigns to the number of three hundred and forty-two, whence by an
easy subtraction sum we obtain a remainder of silver, in value three
pounds thirteen and sixpence."
"But, Tom, surely we never won all that?"
"We did though, and may for the rest of our days settle down as
comparatively honest medical students. So that I propose we have
supper, and drink--for I have provided drink--to the Luck of the
Golden Clasp."
Stunned with the events of the last twenty-four hours, I sat down to
table, but could scarcely touch my food. Tom's tongue went
ceaselessly, now apologising for the fare, now entertaining imaginary
guests, and always addressing me as a man of great wealth and
property.
"Jasper," he remarked at length, "either you are ill, or you must
have been eating to excess all day."
"Neither."
"Do I gather that you wish to leave the table, and pursue your mortal
foe up and down Oxford Street?"
I shook my head.
"What! no revenge to-night? No thirst for blood?"
"Tom," I replied, solemnly, "neither to-night nor any other night.
My revenge is dead."
"Dear me! when did it take place? It must have been very sudden."
"It died to-day."
"Jasper," said Tom, laying his hand on my shoulder, "either wealth
has turned your brain, or most remarkably given you sanity."
CHAPTER IV.
TELLS HOW I SAW THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK; AND HOW I TOLD AND HEARD
NEWS.
A week passed, and in the interval Tom and I made several
discoveries. In the first place, to our great relief, we discovered
that the bank-notes were received in Threadneedle Street without
question or demur. Secondly, we found our present lodgings narrow,
and therefore moved westward to St. James's. Further, it struck us
that our clothes would have to conform to the "demands of more
Occidental civilisation," as Tom put it
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