The String of Pearls (1850), p. 251

"Oh, you are a tailor?"
"Oh, dear no, sir. We are not tailors now a days. We are artists."
"Curse you, whatever you are. I don't care. Some artist I'm afraid has done me out of £8000. Oh, dear. Put down the things. What do they come to?"
"Eighteen pounds ten shillings and threepence, sir."
John Mundell gave a deep groan, and the tailor brushed past Todd to place the clothes upon a side table. As he returned he caught sight of Todd's face, and in an instant his face lighting up, he cried---
"Ah! how do? How do?"
"Eh!" said Todd.
"How did the Pompadour coloured coat and the velvet smalls do, eh? Fit well? Lord, what a rum start for a barber to have a suit of clothes fit for a duke."
"Duke!" cried Mundell.
Todd lifted one of his huge feet and gave the "artist" a kick that sent him sprawling to the door of the room.
"That," he said, "will teach you to make game of a poor man with a large family, you scoundrel. What, you won't go, won't you ? The---"
The artist shot out at the door like lightning, and flew down the stairs as though the devil himself was at his heels. Todd carefully closed the door again, and fastened it by a little bolt that was upon it. A strange expression was upon the countenance of John Mundell. His face looked perfectly convulsed, and he slowly rose from his chair. Todd placed one of his huge hands upon his breast and pushed him back again.
"What's the matter?" said Todd.
"He---he---knows you."
"Well."
"The Pompadour coloured coat! Ah, I recollect the Pompadour coloured coat, too. I thought I knew your face. There was a something, too, about your voice that haunted me like the remembrance of a dream. You---you---are---"
"What?"
"Help---help! Tell me if I be mad, or if you are a duke in the disguise of a barber, or a barber in the likeness of a duke. Ah, that Pompadour coloured coat, it sticks---sticks in my throat."
"I wish it did," growled Todd. "What do you mean , Mr. Mundell?---Pray express yourself. What do you mean by those incoherent expressions ?"
"Are you human ?"

"Dear me, I hope so. Really, sir, you look quite wild."

"Stop — stop—let me think — the face — the voice — the Pompadour coat— the
costume fit for a duke. It must be so. — Man or devil, I will grapple with
you, for you have got my pearls and my money. My £8000— my gold that I
have lived, that I have toiled for— that I have schemed, and cheated to keep up
— that I have shut my eyes to all sights for — and my heart to all tender emo-
tions. You have my money, and I will denounce you !"

"Stop," said Todd.

The usurer paused in what he was saying, but he still glared at Todd fiercely,
and his eyes protruded from their orbits, while the muscles of his mouth worked
as though he were still trying to utter audible sounds, but by some power was
denied the capacity to utter them.

"You say you have lost pearls ?"

"Yes — yes. — Orient pearls."

Todd dived his hand into the breast of his apparel and produced the string of
pearls. He held them before the ravished and dazzled eyes of John Mundell, as
he said—

"Were they like these ?"

With a cry of joy Mundell grasped at the pearls. Tears of gratified avarice
gushed from his eyes,