"Serious about a monument, sir! who the devil could be lively on such a subject?" and Mr. Dingwell looked unaccountably angry, and ground his teeth, and grew white. "A monument, cheap and nasty, I dare say; it isn't much for a poor devil from whom you've got everything. I suppose you'll speak to your uncle, sir."
"Yes, _do_, pray, and prevail. I'm not very strong, sir, and there's something that remains for you and me to do, sir."
"To rot under ground, sir; and as I shall go first, it would be pleasant to me to be able to present your affectionate regards to your uncle, when I meet him, and tell him that you had complied with his little fancy about the monument, as he seemed to make a point that his name should not be blotted totally from the records of his family."
Cleve was rather confirmed in his suspicions about the sanity of this odious old man--as well he might--and, at all events, was resolved to endure him without a row.
"I shall certainly remember, and mention all you have said, sir," said Cleve.
"Yes," said the old man, in a grim meditation, looking down, and he chucked away the stump of his cigar, "it's a devilish hard case, Kismet!" he muttered.
"I suppose you find our London climate very different from that you have grown accustomed to?" said Cleve, approaching the point on which he desired some light.
"I lived in London for a long time, sir. I was--as perhaps you know--junior partner in the great Greek house of Prinkipi and Dingwell--d----n Prinkipi! say I. He ran us into trouble, sir; then came a smash, sir, and Prinkipi levanted, making a scapegoat of me, the most vilified and persecuted Greek merchant that ever came on 'Change! And, egad! if they could catch me, even now, I believe they'd bury me in a dungeon for the rest of my days, which, in that case, would not be many. I'm here, therefore, I may say, at the risk of my life."
"A very anxious situation, indeed, Mr. Dingwell; and I conclude you intend but a short stay here?"
"Quite the contrary, sir. I mean to stay as long as I please, and that may be as long as I live."
"Oh! I had thought from something that Mr. Larkin said," began Cleve Verney.
"Larkin! He's a religious man, and does not put his candle under a bushel. He's very particular to say his prayers; and provided he says _them_, he takes leave to say what he likes beside."