"Oh, yes, you're a very brave fellow, no doubt," said Pradelle.
"Everybody says so. Perhaps if I could have handled an oar as well as
you did I should have come too. But look here, Harry Vine; all these
find words butter no parsnips. You are no better off than you were
before, and you gave me your promise."
It was quite true: fine words buttered no parsnips. Aunt Marguerite had
called him her gallant young hero; Louise had kissed him affectionately;
his father had shaken hands very warmly; Uncle Luke had given him a nod,
and Van Heldre had said a few kindly words, while there was always a
smile for him among the fishermen who hung about the harbour. But that
was all; he was still Van Heldre's clerk, and with a dislike to his
position, which had become intensified since Madelaine had grown cold,
and her intimacy with Leslie had seemed to increase.
"Look here," said Pradelle; "it's time I was off."
"Why? What for?" said Harry, as they sat among the rocks.
"Because I feel as if I were being made a fool."
"Why, every one is as civil to you as can be. My father--"
"Oh, yes; the old man's right enough."
"My aunt."
"Yes, wish she wasn't so old, Harry, and had some money; I'd marry her."
"Don't be a fool."
"Not going to be; so I tell you I'm off."
"No, no, don't go. This place will be unbearable when you are gone."
"Can't help it, dear boy. I must do something to increase my income,
and if you will not join in and make a fortune, why I must go and find
some one who will."
"But I dare not, Vic."
"You gave me your word--the word of a gentleman. I ask you to borrow
the money for a week or two, and then we would replace it, and nobody be
a bit the wiser, while we shall be on the high-road to fortune and fair
France."
"I tell you I dare not."
"Then I shall do it myself."
"No, that you shall not."
"Then you shall."
"I daren't."
"Bah! what a milksop you are; you have nothing to care for here. Miss
Van Heldre has pitched you over because you are now her father's clerk."
"Let that be, please."
"And taken up with Mr Bagpipes."
"Do you want to quarrel, Pradelle?"
"Not I, dear boy; I'm dumb."
He said no more on that subject, but he had said enough. That was the
truth then. Madelaine had given him up on that account, and the sting
rankled in Harry's breast.
"Money goes to the bank every day, you say?" said Pradelle.
"Yes. Crampton takes it."
"But that sum of money in notes? How much is there of that?"
"Five hundred."
"Why don't that go to the bank?"
"I don't know. A deposit, I think; likely to be called for."
"May be; but that's our game, Harry. The other could not be managed
without being missed; this, you see, is not in use."
"Pradelle, it's madness."
"Say Vic, dear boy."
"Well, Vic, I say it's madness."
"Nothing of the kind. It's making use of a little coin that you can get
at easily. Why, hang it, old fellow, you talk as if I were asking you
to steal the money."
"Hush! Don't talk like that."
"Well, you aggravate me so. Now, am I trying to serve you, or am I
not?"
"To serve me, of course."
"Yes, and you behave like a child."
"I want to behave like an honourable man to my father's friend."
"Oh, if you are going to preach I'm off."
"I'm not going to preach."
"Then do act like a man. Here is your opportunity. You know what the
old chap said about the tide in the affairs of men?"
Harry nodded.
"Well, your tide is at its height. You are going to seize your
opportunity, and then you can do as you like. Why you might turn the
tables on Miss Madelaine."
"If you don't want to quarrel just leave her name alone," said Harry,
with a bulldog-like growl.
"Oh, I'll never mention it again if you like. Now, then, once for all,
is it business?"