ion than any one living. He was the
terror of the "swells." To be in Benson's hands meant ruin in its most
irretrievable shape; and at the very moment he stood there his minions
were on his track!

Ere he was well aware of it, he was back at the little window of the
cottage.

"I must have this money on your own terms, Stein," said he. "I find that
Davis has some urgent need of my presence. I can't delay here another
day."

"How many tousend gulden, milord?" asked the Jew respectfully, as he
dipped his pen in the ink-bottle.

"Davis says two--I should like to say four, or even five."

"Five if you wish it, milord; to me is it all as one--five, fifteen, or
fifty; whatever sum you want."

Beecher put his hand on the other's wrist to detain him while he took
a moment's counsel with himself. Never had such a golden opportunity
as this presented itself. Never before had he seen the man who so
generously proffered his services. It was ask and have. Was he to reject
such good fortune?--was he to turn his back on the very first piece of
luck that had ever befallen him? What heartburnings might he be storing
up for future years when he looked back to the time that, with a word,
he might have made his fortune!

"But are you quite sure, friend Lazarus, that if I say eight or ten
thousand,--for I don't want more,--Davis will be as willing to back the
bill?"

"I am quite sure."

"Well, now, I am not so very certain of that; and as it is Davis will
have to book up, it might be safer, perhaps, that I did n't go beyond
the amount he mentions,--eh?"

"As you will,--as you please yourself. I only say, dere is der Herr
Davis's name; he send it to me and say, 'Milord will do de rest.'"

"So that he sent you a blank acceptance?" cried Beecher, in amazement.

"Yaas, Just as you see,--'Christopher Davis,' and de flourish as usual.
Ach, der Davis!" and he sighed once more.

The man who held Grog's signature on a blank stamp assumed no common
shape in Annesley Beecher's eyes, and he continued to gaze on the old
man with a strange sense of awe and astonishment. If he had not the
document there before him on the table, he would not have believed it.
The trustful courage of Van Amburgh, who used to place his head in the
lion's mouth, seemed poor in comparison with such heroic boldness as
this; and he gazed at the writing in a sort of fascination.

"And Grog actually sent you that over by letter?" asked he again.

"Yaas, as you s