What wonder then if he tottered up the steps and tapped
feebly upon it? There was no answer. He tapped again more loudly. This
time his summons was heard. Steps approached. There was a moment's
pause. Then the door opened, and Gustavus appeared looking rather
sleepy, but still decidedly intellectual. Malkiel the Second pulled
himself together and faced the footman boldly.
"You know me?" he said.
Gustavus examined him closely.
"Yes, sir," he replied at length. "By the clothes. I should know Mr.
Ferdinand's trouserings among a thousand."
Malkiel the Second realised that emotion probably rendered his face
unrecognisable. But at least his legs spoke for him. That was something,
and he continued, with an attempt at ease and boldness,--
"Right! I have returned to change them."
"Yes, sir. Mr. Ferdinand has retired to bed, sir."
"Don't wake him. I can just leave them for him."
"Very well, sir."
And Gustavus admitted Malkiel to the dimly-lit hall and shut the door
softly.
"What is your name, young man?" said Malkiel, whispering.
"Gustavus, sir."
"Ah! Gustavus, would you like to earn a hundred pounds to-night?"
Gustavus started.
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