e robbed of his
inheritance; whose proud escutcheon you have tarnished; whose family you
have reduced to beggary and utter ruin."

"But Sir Jocelyn, my worthy friend," the knight faltered, "have
patience, I pray of you. If you consider yourself aggrieved, I am
willing to make reparation--ample reparation. You know what were my
intentions towards you, before I had the slightest notion who you might
be. (If I had but been aware of it, he thought, I would have taken care
to keep at a respectful distance from him.) I will do more than I
promised. I will lend you any sums of money you may require; and on your
personal security. Your bare word shall suffice. No bonds--no written
obligations of any kind. Does that sound like usury? As I am a true
gentleman! I am most unfairly judged. I am not the extortioner men
describe me. You shall find me your friend," he added in a low earnest
tone. "I will re-establish your fortune; give you a new title, higher
and prouder than that which you have lost; and, if you will follow my
counsel, you shall supplant the haughty favourite himself. You shall
stand where Buckingham now stands. Hear reason, good Sir Jocelyn. Hear
reason, I entreat you."

"I will hear nothing further," Jocelyn rejoined. "Were you to talk till
Doomsday, you could not alter my feelings towards you a jot. My chief
errand in coming to London was to call you and Sir Giles Mompesson to
strict account."

"And we will answer any charges you may bring against us readily--most
readily, Sir Jocelyn. All was done in fairness--according to law. The
Star-Chamber will uphold us."

"Tut! you think to terrify me with that bugbear; but I am not so easily
frightened. We have met for the first time by chance, but our next
meeting shall be by appointment."

"When and where you please, Sir Jocelyn," the knight replied; but
recollect the duello is forbidden, and, though I would not willingly
disappoint you in your desire to cut my throat, I should be sorry to
think you might be hanged for it afterwards. Come, Sir Jocelyn, lay
aside this idle passion, and look to your true interests, which lie not
in quarrelling with me, but in our reconciliation. I can help you
effectually, as I have shown; and, as I am a true gentleman, I _will_
help you. Give me your hand, and let us be friends!"

"Never!" Jocelyn exclaimed, withdrawing from him, "never shall the hand
of a Mounchensey grasp yours in friendship! I would sooner mine rotted
off! I am