The Bow of Orange Ribbon - Page 32/189

"The trifles of our daily lives,

The common things scarce worth recall,

Whereof no visible trace survives,--

These are the mainsprings, after all."

"Honoured gentleman, when will you pay me my money?"

The speaker was an old man, dressed in a black coat buttoned to the

ankles, and a cap of silk and fur, from beneath which fell a fringe of

gray hair. His long beard was also gray, and he leaned upon an ivory

staff carved with many strange signs. The inquiry was addressed to

Captain Hyde. He paid no attention whatever to it, but, gayly humming a

stave of "Marlbrook," watched the crush of wagons and pedestrians, in

order to find a suitable moment to cross the narrow street.

"Honoured gentleman, when will you pay me my moneys?"

The second inquiry elicited still less attention for, just as it was

made, Neil Semple came out of the City Hall, and his appearance gave the

captain a good excuse for ignoring the unpleasant speaker.

"Faith, Mr. Semple," he cried, "you came in an excellent time. I am for

Fraunce's Tavern, and a chop and a bottle of Madeira. I shall be vastly

glad of your company."

The grave young lawyer, with his hands full of troublesome-looking

papers, had little of the air of a boon companion; and, indeed, the

invitation was at once courteously declined.

"I have a case on in the Admiralty Court, Captain," he answered, "and so

my time is not my own. It belongs, I may say, to the man who has paid me

good money for it."

"Lawyer Semple?"

"Mr. Cohen, at your service, sir."

"Captain Hyde owes me one hundred guineas, with the interests, since the

fifteenth day of last December. He will not hear me when I say to him,

'Pay me my moneys;' perhaps he will listen, if you speak for me."

"If you are asking my advice in the way of business, you know my

office-door, Cohen; if in the way of friendship, I may as well say at

once, that I never name friendship and money in the same breath.

Good-day, gentlemen. I am in something of a hurry, as you may

understand." Cohen bowed low in response to the civil greeting; Captain

Hyde stared indignantly at the man who had presumed to couple one of

his Majesty's officers with a money-lender and a Jew.

"I do not wish to make you more expenses, Captain;" and Cohen, following

the impulse of his anxiety, laid his hand upon his debtor's arm. Hyde

turned in a rage, and flung off the touch with a passionate oath. Then

the Jew left him. There was neither anger nor impatience visible in his

face or movements. He cast a glance up at the City Hall,--an involuntary

appeal, perhaps, to the justice supposed to inhabit its chambers,--and

then he walked slowly toward his store and home.