"And is it true," asked _the voice_, "that ---- stopped payment
on Tuesday? I came to town from Warwickshire only yesterday, and this
is the first news that I heard."

"Oh, there's no doubt about that," answered a third person; "but that
surprized nobody. The only wonder is, how he managed to keep afloat so
long. He has been up to the chin for the last twelvemonth and more. I
hope you don't lose there, sir?"

"Mine has been the devil's luck this year," continued _the voice_, in a
bitter savage tone, that never belonged to Mr Clayton. "Yes, gentlemen,
I lose heavily by them both. But never mind, never mind, _one_ shall
wince for it, if he has been playing ducks and drakes with my good
money. He shall feel the scourge, depend upon it. I'll never leave him
till he has paid me back in groans. Heaven, what a sum!"

_The voice_ said no more during the journey. The other gentlemen having
lost nothing by the various failures, discussed matters with philosophy
and praiseworthy decorum. Sometimes, indeed, "the third person" grew
slightly facetious and jocose when he represented to himself what he
termed "the queer cut" that some old friend would display on presenting
his cheque for payment at the rickety counter of Messrs ---- & Co.; but
no deeper expression of feeling escaped one of those who spoke so long
and volubly on what concerned themselves so very little. I was puzzled
and disturbed. The stranger had returned from Warwickshire the day
before. Twice during my residence with the minister, business of
importance had carried him to that county. It was certainly a curious
coincidence, but coincidences more curious pass by us every day
unheeded. It would have been absurd to conclude from that the identity