"Engaged, sir--engaged!" stammered the man--"me?"
"As my valet," nodded Barnabas.
"But, sir, I told you--I was--a thief!"
"Yes," said Barnabas, "and therefore I have great hopes of your
future honesty."
Now hereupon the man, still staring, rose up to his knees, and with
a swift, appealing gesture, stretched out his hands towards Barnabas,
and his hands were trembling all at once.
"Sir!" said he, "oh, sir--d'ye mean it? You don't know, you can't
know what such an offer means to me. Sir, you're not jesting with me?"
"No," answered Barnabas, calmly serious of eye, "no, I'm not jesting;
and to prove it, here is an advance of wages." And he dropped two
guineas into the man's open palm.
The man stared down at the coins in his hand, then rose abruptly to
his feet and turned away, and when he spoke again his voice was
hoarse.
"Sir," said he, jerkily, "for such trust I would thank you, only
words are too poor. But if, as I think, it is your desire to enter
the World of Fashion, it becomes my duty, as an honest man, to tell
you that all your efforts, all your money, would be unavailing, even
though you had been introduced by Barrymore, or Hanger, or Vibart, or
Brummell himself."
"Ah," said Barnabas, "and why?"
"Because you have made a fatal beginning."
"How?"
"By knocking down the Prince's friend and favorite--Sir Mortimer
Carnaby."