Page:Court Royal.djvu/333

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RETRIBUTION

The Marquess was walking slowly through the park to Court Royal, when he heard rapid steps behind him. He did not turn to see who followed; then he heard a voice,

‘Heigh! Lord Saltcombe! Most noble Marquess, a word with you.’

He arrested his walk, and waited patiently till he was caught up, but without turning his head.

A moment after he saw at his side the man Emmanuel, whom he had scarce noticed at the meeting. The man was panting. He had run to catch him up. Lord Saltcombe waited till he had gained breath to speak. He did not know Lazarus. If he had seen him in past years, it had been but briefly and rarely, and he did not recall his features; besides, Lazarus was oldened and altered since then.

‘You do not know me, most noble sir?’ said the Jew, in a tone between deference and defiance.

Lord Saltcombe contented himself with a slight shake of the head.

‘I suppose not. Oh, no! of course not! You do not know who Emmanuel is, who holds his grip on your heart? No, I suppose not!’

Lord Saltcombe became impatient; he turned to continue his walk, without speaking.

‘Do you know who holds two of your mortgages, and who has worked and stirred up the other mortgagees against you? Who has your own—your own bills in his hands?’

Lazarus walked beside the Marquess, peering into his face with an expression full of vindictiveness. Lord Saltcombe looked in front of him; he made no reply, but the veins in his temples swelled and darkened.

‘You do not know, I presume, that I, I hold you all in my power—that you are at my mercy? Do you know who I am?’ asked Lazarus starting forward and standing in his way.

‘I know that you are an obstruction, and unless you move yourself at once I shall lay my stick across you.’

‘Oh, my Lord Cock-of-the-Walk!’ exclaimed the Jew. ‘What airs we give ourselves!’

Lord Saltcombe’s eyes lightened. He raised his walking stick, and would have brought it down on Lazarus had not the Jew hastily added: ‘I am Emmanuel Lazarus, of the Barbican, Plymouth!’

Then the stick fell from Lord Saltcombe’s hand. He stood still, and looked keenly at the man before him. The pawn-