He had never been here but once before, having met Duval elsewhere.
"He's up in his room. John show the young gentleman up to No. 9. Won't you have a glass of something this evening?"
"No," said Dawkins, abruptly.
The boy preceded him up a dark and dirty staircase.
"That's the room, sir," he said.
"Stop a minute," said Dawkins, "he may not be in."
He inwardly hoped he might not. But Duval answered his knock by coming to the door himself.
"Delighted to see you, mon ami. John, may leave the lamp. That's all, unless Mr. Dawkins wishes to order something."
"I want nothing," said Dawkins.
"They have some capital brandy."
"I am not in the mood for drinking tonight."
"As you please," said the Frenchman, disappointed; "be seated."
Dawkins sat down in a wooden rocking-chair, minus an arm.
"Well," said Duval, "how much money have you brought me?"
"None."
The Frenchman frowned and stroked his mustache, fiercely.
"What does all this mean? Are you going to put me off longer?"
"I would pay it if I could," said Dawkins, "but I haven't got the money."
"You could get it."
"How?"
"Ask your father."
"My father would rave if he knew that I had lost money in such a way."
"But you need not tell him."
"If I ask for money, he will be sure to ask what I want it for."
"Tell him you want clothes, or a watch, or a hundred things."
Dawkins shook his head; "it won't do," said he.
"He wouldn't give me a hundred and fifty dollars."
"Then ask seventy-five, and I will wait a month for the rest."
"Look here, Duval, you have no rightful claim to this money. You've got enough out of me. Just tear up the paper."
Duval laughed scornfully, "Aha, Mr. Dawkins," he said, "that would be a very pretty arrangement FOR YOU. But I don't see how it is going to benefit me. No, no, I can't afford to throw away a hundred and fifty dollars so easily. If I was a rich man like your father it would make a difference."
"Then you won't remit the debt," said Dawkins, sullenly.
"You would think me a great ninny, if I did."
"Then you may collect it the best way you can."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded the Frenchman, his face darkening.
"I mean what I say," said Dawkins, desperately, "Gambling debts are not recognizable in law."
"Nothing is said about it's being a gambling debt.
I have your note."
"Which is worth nothing, since I am a minor."
Duval's face became black with rage.
"Aha, my friend," said he showing his teeth, "this is a very nice game to cheat me out of my money. But it won't do, it won't do."
"Why won't it?"
"I shall say a word in your father's ear, mon ami, and in the ear of your worthy employer whom you were so anxious for me not to see, and perhaps that would be worse for you than to pay me my money."
Dawkins's brief exultation passed away.
He saw that he was indeed in the power of an unscrupulous man, who was disposed to push his advantage to the utmost.
He subsided into a moody silence, which Duval watched with satisfaction.
"Well, my friend, what will you do about it?"
"I don't know what I can do."
"You will think of something. You will find it best," said the Frenchman, in a tone which veiled a threat.
"I will try," said Dawkins, gloomily.
"That is well. I thought you would listen to reason, mon ami. Now we will have a pleasant chat. Hold, I will order some brandy myself."
"Not for me," said Dawkins, rising from his chair, "I must be going."
"Will you not have one little game?" asked Duval, coaxingly.
"No, no, I have had enough of that. Goodnight."
"Then you won't stop. And when shall I have the pleasure of seeing you at my little apartment once more?"
"I don't know."
"If it is any trouble to you to come, I will call at your office," said Duval, significantly.
"Don't trouble yourself," said Dawkins, hastily; "I will come here a week from today."
"A week is a long time."
"Long or short, I must have it."
"Very well, mon ami. A week let it be.
Good-night. Mind the stairs as you go down."
Dawkins breathed more freely as he passed out into the open air. He was beginning to realize that the way of the transgressor is hard.
