“You are in trouble, Mr Fitzgerald, I fear,” said Mr Palliser, standing over Burgo as he lay upon the ground. They were now altogether beyond the gaslights, and the evening was dark. Burgo, too, was lying with his face to the ground, expecting that the footsteps which he had heard would pass by him.

“Who is that?” said he, turning round suddenly; but still he was not at once able to recognise Mr Palliser, whose voice was hardly known to him.

“Perhaps I have been wrong in following you,” said Mr Palliser, “but I thought you were in distress, and that probably I might help you. My name is Palliser.”

“Plantagenet Palliser?” said Burgo, jumping up on to his legs and looking close into the other’s face. “By heavens! it is Plantagenet Palliser! Well, Mr Palliser, what do you want of me?”

“I want to be of some use to you, if I can. I and my wife saw you leave the gaming-table just now.”

“Is she here too?”

“Yes — she is here. We are going home, but chance brought us up to the salon. She seemed to think that you are in distress, and that I could help you. I will, if you will let me.”

Mr Palliser, during the whole interview, felt that he could afford to be generous. He knew that he had no further cause for fear. He had no lingering dread of this poor creature who stood before him. All that feeling was over, though it was as yet hardly four months since he had been sent back by Mrs Marsham to Lady Monk’s house to save his wife, if saving her were yet possible.

“So she is here, is she — and saw me there when I staked my last chance? I should have had over twenty thousand francs now, if the cards had stood to me.”

“The cards never do stand to any one, Mr Fitzgerald.”

“Never — never — never!” said Burgo. “At any rate, they never did to me. Nothing ever does stand to me.”

“If you want twenty thousand francs — that’s eight hundred pounds, I think — I can let you have it without any trouble.”

“The devil you can!”

“Oh, yes. As I am travelling with my family — ” I wonder whether Mr Palliser considered himself to be better entitled to talk of his family than he had been some three or four weeks back — “As I am travelling with my family, I have been obliged to carry large bills with me, and I can accommodate you without any trouble.”

There was something pleasant in this, which made Burgo Fitzgerald laugh. Mr Palliser, the husband of Lady Glencora M’Cluskie, and the heir of the Duke of Omnium happening to have money with him! As if Mr Palliser could not bring down showers of money in any quarter of the globe by simply holding up his hand. And then to talk of accommodating him — him, Burgo Fitzgerald, as though it were simply a little matter of convenience — as though Mr Palliser would of course find the money at his bankers’ when he next examined his book! Burgo could not but laugh.

“I was not in the least doubting your ability to raise the money,” said he; “but how would you propose to get it back again?”

“That would be at your convenience,” said Mr Palliser, who hardly knew how to put himself on a proper footing with his companion, so that he might offer to do something effectual for the man’s aid.

“I never have any such convenience,” said Burgo. “Who were those women whose tubs always had holes at the bottom of them? My tub always has such a hole.”

“You mean the daughters of Danaus,” said Mr Palliser.

“I don’t know whose daughters they were, but you might just as well lend them all eight hundred pounds apiece.”

“There were so many of them,” said Mr Palliser, trying a little joke. “But as you are the only one I shall be most happy, as I said before, to be of service.”

They were now walking slowly together up towards the hills, and near to them they heard a step. Upon this, Burgo turned round.

“Do you see that fellow?” said he. Mr Palliser, who was somewhat short-sighted, said that he did not see him. “I do, though. I don’t know his name, but they have sent him out from the hotel with me, to see what I do with myself. I owe them six or seven hundred francs, and they want to turn me out of the house and not let me take my things with me.”

“That would be very uncomfortable,” said Mr Palliser.

“It would be uncomfortable, but I shall be too many for them. If they keep my traps they shall keep me. They think I’m going to blow my brains out. That’s what they think. The man lets me go far enough off to do that — so long as it’s nowhere about the house.”

“I hope you’re not thinking of such a thing?”

“As long as I can help it, Mr Palliser, I never think of anything.” The stranger was now standing near to them — almost so near that he might hear their words. Burgo, perceiving this, walked up to him, and, speaking in bad French, desired him to leave them. “Don’t you see that I have a friend with me?”

“Oh! a friend,” said the man, answering in bad English, “Perhaps de friend can advance moneys?”

“Never mind what he can do,” said Burgo, “You do as you are bid, and leave me.”

Then the gentleman from the hotel retreated down the hill, but Mr Palliser, during the rest of the interview, frequently fancied that he heard the man’s footfall at no great distance. They continued to walk on up the hill very slowly, and it was some time before Mr Palliser knew how to repeat his offer.

“So Lady Glencora is here?” Burgo said again.

“Yes, she is here. It was she who asked me to come to you,” Mr Palliser answered. Then they both walked on a few steps in silence, for neither of them knew how to address the other.

“By George! — isn’t it odd,” said Burgo, at last, “that you and I, of all men in the world, should be walking together here at Baden? It’s not only that you’re the richest man in London, and that I’m the poorest, but —; there are other things, you know, which make it so funny.”

“There have been things which make me and my wife very anxious to give you aid.”

“And have you considered, Mr Palliser, that those things make you the very man in the world — indeed, for the matter of that, the only man in the world — from whom I can’t take aid? I would have taken it all if I could have got it — and I tried hard.”

“I know you have been disappointed, Mr Fitzgerald.”

“Disappointed! By G—! yes. Did you ever know any man who had so much right to be disappointed as I have? I did love her, Mr Palliser. Nay, by heavens! I do love her. Out here I will dare to say as much even to you. I shall never try to see her again. All that is over, of course. I’ve been a fool about her as I have been about everything. But I did love her.”

“I believe it, Mr Fitzgerald.”

“It was not altogether her money. But think what it would have been to me, Mr Palliser. Think what a chance I had, and what a chance I lost. I should have been at the top of everything — as now I am at the bottom. I should not have spent that. There would have been enough of it to have saved me. And then I might have done something good instead of crawling about almost in fear of that beast who is watching us.”

“It has been ordered otherwise,” said Mr Palliser, not knowing what to say.

“Yes; it has been ordered, with a vengeance! It seems to have been ordered that I’m to go to the devil; but I don’t know who gave the orders, and I don’t know why.”

Mr Palliser had not time to explain to his friend that the orders had been given, in a very peremptory way, by himself, as he was anxious to bring back the conversation to his own point. He wished to give some serviceable, and, if possible, permanent aid to the poor ne’er-do-well; but he did not wish to talk more than could be helped about his own wife.

“There is an old saying, which you will remember well,” said he, “that the way to good manners is never too late.”

“That’s nonsense,” said Burgo. “It’s too late when the man feels the knot round his neck at the Old Bailey.”

“Perhaps not, even then, Indeed, we may say, certainly not, if the man be still able to take the right way. But I don’t want to preach to you.”

“It wouldn’t do any good, you know.”

“But I do want to be of service to you. There is something of truth in what you say. You have been disappointed; and I, perhaps, of all men am the most bound to come to your assistance now that you are in need.”

“How can I take it from you?” said Burgo, almost crying.

“You shall take it from her!”

“No — that would be worse; twenty times worse. What! take her money, when she would not give me herself!”

“I do not ............