“No,” said Oliver, quite boldly. “I’ll have to send to the country for it.”
“To the country, Sir Oliver? Where in the country?”
“Zounds, man. What is this? A gentleman has time to pay!”
“Convince us you have a chance of paying, Sir Oliver, and we’ll gladly give you time.”
“Chance? Why, what is a mere three hundred?”
“More than you have, or so I hear.”
Portia swayed on her feet. Three hundred?Three hundred!
“My estate…” said Oliver.
“Was lost to Major Barclay months ago.”
Oliver swallowed. “I still have funds.”
“Excellent,” said Cuthbertson genially. “Then pay us and that’ll be the end of it.”
“I…I don’t keep my money here.”
The man in the Cadogan wig had been looking around the room as if seeking something of value, but now he turned back to Oliver. “Then we’ll stay here while we wait for it to arrive, Sir Oliver.” His accent was not that of a well-bred man.
“Stay here?” Oliver asked, his voice squeaking.
Cuthbertson spoke again. “Forgive us for being so distrustful, Sir Oliver, but not everyone is as honorable as you. It has been known for a man to take ship, or to join the army in order to escape his creditors. Some even go knocking on the doors of the Fleet, desperate to get in.”
Portia’s heart began to pound and her mouth turned paper-dry. What were these men threatening if debtor’s prison was a sweet alternative?
Oliver collapsed down on a chair. “I can’t pay,” he whispered.
Cuthbertson relaxed almost into bonhomie. “Now that’s a shame, Sir Oliver. You really shouldn’t play where you can’t pay, should you?”
“I’ll find it somehow, but you’ll have to give me time!”
“But time’s so tricky, isn’t it? Keeping an eye on you for all thattime.And the money should be mine for all thattime.”
“You heartless devil,” Oliver snarled.
“Tut, tut. If you’d won, you’d have pocketed my money and whistled, wouldn’t you? Now you have to pay.”
“I can’t, I tell you. Do your damndest!”
The two men flashed an almost amused look, and Cadogan Wig moved forward to stand close to Oliver. “Well, Sir Oliver, you want us to do our damndest, hey?” He pulled out a wickedly sharp knife. “Shall we take it as fingers, eyes…or balls?”
Oliver’s eyes bulged and after a moment of frozen horror, Portia started forward. “Stop this! You cannot possibly do such a thing, so stop this foolery!”
Cadogan Wig quite calmly grasped Oliver by the hair and placed the needle-sharp blade by the corner of his right eye. “I assure you, miss, I do it all the time. You’ll be astonished at how easy an eye pops out.”
A chill of horror trickled from Portia’s scalp to her feet. She believed him.
“Oh God,” gasped Oliver. “Please don’t. Please…”
Cuthbertson smiled. “I do believe these dear people are ready to see reason, Mick.”
Mick nodded, but didn’t move his hand or knife. Oliver appeared frozen with terror.
