"Par? Man alive! I bought Rouget's at a premium, and I have been holding the whole ever so long, with the risk of its falling all the time. You must take it at the market value, say a hundred and seventy-six."
"Whose money is it? By your own admission? And do you not receive a pension under the will for looking after it? If the price had gone down, would you have made good the loss?"
"You have no right to insinuate that I would have done anything improper. However, I will not yield to so outrageous a demand. No man in his senses would; especially when you have no more business with it than the parish priest, for two years to come."
"You will force me, however unwillingly, to make Gerald file a petition to have your trusteeship overhauled; with the affidavit I can make in support the court cannot possibly refuse."
"I shall have an information lodged against _you_ for swindling before the petition can be heard. Who will mind your affidavit after that?"
"Good for you, old man. A stale mate! It does one good to play a match against you, Jordan; it brightens one's wits. Well now, can we make a truce? If I do my best to gain you time to realize, and promise to keep Gerald quiet for the next two years, will you get me that money out of Considine's hands? How much is it, by-the-way?"
"Half. We divided the property to avoid the endless consultations, each agreeing to do his best with half, and trust the other."
"Well, get Considine to hand over, and you shall be left undisturbed."
"Come, then, we will find him at Podevin's, and have it out before we sleep."
"He is not there. I saw him walk past as I sat down to dinner; gone to Miss Stanley's, I fancy, as usual."
"He will be back before long, now; let us go down and wait."
"Better wait here, there are always inquisitive loafers around there. Come in and sit down, the moon is rising. He will not leave his friends till it is high enough to light him home."
Considine retired early to his chamber by the river-side. The moon was up and emerging in lucent clearness from the bands of dimming haze which joined the transparent heaven to the grosser earth. There was no wind, only a stealing deliciousness on the sweet night air, lulled by faint whispering among the aspen leaves hard by, and the lapping of the waters round the boat-house. It was far too good a time to waste in the unconsciousness of sleep: merely to exist and feel was tranquil joy. He extinguished his lamp, threw off his coat, and lighting a pipe, sat by the open window, and puffed and dreamed.