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"No. But if the heart is weak, then everything is weak, and the life is not a sound one." "You see, Admiral," remarked Mr. Metaxa, as the doctor secreted his stethoscope once more in his hat, "my remarks were not entirely uncalled for. I am sorry that the doctor's opinion is not more favorable, but this is a matter of business, and certain obvious precautions must be taken." "Of course.
"Ah, that is the name of the firm, you see. It's only a name. It's Mr. Reuben Metaxa that you wants." "Well then, is he in?" "No, he's not." "When will he be back?" "Can't tell, I'm sure. He's gone to lunch. Sometimes he takes one hour, and sometimes two. It'll be two to-day, I 'spect, for he said he was hungry afore he went." "Then I suppose that we had better call again," said the Admiral.
"Doctor Proudie, gentlemen," said Mr. Metaxa. The doctor bowed, smiled, whipped off his hat, and produced his stethoscope from its interior with the air of a conjurer upon the stage. "Which of these gentlemen am I to examine?" he asked, blinking from one to the other of them. "Ah, it is you! Only your waistcoat! You need not undo your collar. Thank you! A full breath! Thank you! Ninety-nine!
There is my card. I have here my pension papers. I get L850 a year. I thought that perhaps if you were to hold these papers it would be security enough that I should pay you. You could draw my pension, and repay yourselves at the rate, say, of L500 a year, taking your five per cent interest as well." "What interest?" "Five per cent per annum." Mr. Metaxa laughed. "Per annum!" he said.
Reuben Metaxa," said the moneylender. "Was it about an advance you wished to see me?" "Yes." "For you, I presume?" turning to Charles Westmacott. "No, for this gentleman." The moneylender looked surprised. "How much did you desire?" "I thought of five thousand pounds," said the Admiral. "And on what security?" "I am a retired admiral of the British navy. You will find my name in the Navy List.
He wore a high-buckled stock, took snuff, and adorned his conversation with little scraps from the classics. "My dear Sir," said he, when he had listened to their story, "any friend of Mrs. Westmacott's is a friend of mine. Try a pinch. I wonder that you should have gone to this man Metaxa. His advertisement is enough to condemn him. Habet foenum in cornu. They are all rogues."
It would be absurd to postpone it now," Metaxa spoke with some heat, and his eyes glinted angrily from between his narrow lids at the imperturbable Charles. The Admiral was simple in money matters, but he had seen much of men and had learned to read them. He saw that venomous glance, and saw too that intense eagerness was peeping out from beneath the careless air which the agent had assumed.
Yours is a rather unusual case and we may find some other way of doing what you wish. Of course the security which you offer is no security at all, and no sane man would advance five thousand pennies on it." "No security? Why not, sir?" "You might die to-morrow. You are not a young man. What age are you?" "Sixty-three." Mr. Metaxa turned over a long column of figures.
"The doctor was a rogue too. I didn't like the look of him at the time." "Arcades ambo. But now we must see what we can do for you. Of course what Metaxa said was perfectly right. The pension is in itself no security at all, unless it were accompanied by a life assurance which would be an income in itself. It is no good whatever." His clients' faces fell. "But there is the second alternative.
The youth was dispatched upon his errand, while Mr. Metaxa sat at his desk, trimming his nails, and shooting out little comments upon the weather. Presently feet were heard upon the stairs, the moneylender hurried out, there was a sound of whispering, and he returned with a large, fat, greasy-looking man, clad in a much worn frock-coat, and a very dilapidated top hat.
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