passages known as Austin Friars. He had been
prepared for Saxon's visit by a note from
Colonna, and met him in a tremor of voluble
servility, punctuating his conversation with
bows, and all but prostrating himself in the dust
of his office. Flies were not plentiful in Signor
Nazzari's web, and such a golden fly as Saxon
was not meshed every day.

It was surprising what a short time the
transaction took. Colonna might well say nothing
was easier. First of all they went to the Bank
of England, where Saxon signed his name in a
great book, after which they returned to Austin
Friars, and waited while Signor Nazzari went
somewhere to fetch the money; and then he
came back with a pocket-book full of bank-notes
secured round his neck by a steel chain—and the
thing was done.

Thereupon Major Vaughan solemnly tore up
Saxon's cheque in the stockbroker's presence,
and received the value thereof in crisp new Bank
of England paper.

"And now, Trefalden," said he, " fare you
well till we meet in Italy."

"I've not made up my mind yet, remember,"
replied Saxon, smiling.

"Make it up at once, and go with me in the
morning."

"No, no; that is out of the question."

"Well, at all events, don't put it off till the
fun is all over. If you come, come while there's
something to be done."

"Trust me for that," replied Saxon, with a
somewhat heightened colour. " I won't share
the feasting if I haven't shared the fighting.
Good-bye."

"Good-bye."

And with this, having traversed together the
mazes of Austin Friars and emerged upon the
great space in front of the Exchange, they shook
hands and parted.

Saxon turned his face westward, and went
down Cheapside on foot—he was going to
Chancery-lane, but he was in no hurry to reach
his destination. He walked slowly, paused every
now and then to look in a shop-window, and
took a turn round St. Paul's. He pretended to
himself that he went in to glance at Nelson's
monument; but he had seen Nelson's monument
twice before, and he knew in his heart
that he cared very little about it. At length
inexorable fate brought him to his cousin's door;
so he went up the dingy stairs, feeling very
guilty, and hoping not to find the lawyer at
home. On the first landing he met Mr. Keckwitch
with his hat on. It was just one o'clock, and
that respectable man was going to his dinner.

"Mr. Trefalden is engaged, sir, with a client,"
said the head clerk, to Saxon's immense relief.

"Oh, then you can say that I called, if you
please," replied he, turning about with great
alacrity.

"But I think the gentleman will be going
directly, sir, if you wouldn't mind taking a seat
in the office," added Mr. Keckwitch.

"I—perhaps I had better try to come by-
and-by," said Saxon, reluctantly.

"As you please, sir, but I'm confident you
wouldn't have to wait five minutes."

So Saxon resigned himself to circumstances,
and waited.

The clerks were all gone to dinner, with the
exception of Gorkin the red-headed, whom Saxon
surprised in the act of balancing a tobacco-pipe
upon his chin.

"Pray don't disturb yourself," laughed he, as
Gorkin, overwhelmed with confusion, lifted the
lid of his desk and disappeared behind it as if he
had been shot. " I should like to see you do
that again."

The boy emerged cautiously, till his eyes just
cleared the lid, but he made no reply.

"It must be difficult," added Saxon, good
naturedly trying to put him at his ease.

"It ain't so difficult as standing on your
head to drink a pint of porter," said the boy,
mysteriously.

"Why, no—I should suppose not. Can you
do that also?"

The boy nodded.

"I can put half-a-crown in my mouth, and
bring it out of my ears in small change," said
he. " If I'd half-a-crown handy, I'd show you
the trick."

Saxon's fingers were instantly in his waist-
coat-pocket, and the half-crown would have
changed owners on the spot, but for the sudden
opening of William Trel'alden's private door.

"Then you will write to me, if you please,"
said a deep voice; but the owner of the voice,
who seemed to be holding the door on the other
side, remained out of sight.

"You may expect to hear from me, Mr.
Behrens, the day after to-morrow," replied the
lawyer.

" And Lord Castletowers quite understands
that the mortgage must be foreclosed on the
tenth of next month?"

"I have informed him so."

"Must, Mr. Trefalden. Remember that. I
can allow no grace. Twenty thousand of the
money will have to go direct to the Worcestershire
agent, as you know; and the odd five will
be wanted for repairs, building, and so forth.
It's imperative—quite imperative."

"I am fully aware of your necessity for the
money, Mr. Behrens," was the reply, uttered
in William Trefalden's quietest tone; " and I
have duly impressed that fact upon his lordship.
I have no doubt that you will be promptly
paid."

"Well, I hope so, for his sake. Good
morning, Mr. Trefalden."

"Good morning."

And with this Mr. Behrens came out into the
office, followed by the lawyer, who almost started
at the sight of his cousin.

"You here, Saxon!" he said, having seen his
client to the top of the stairs. " I thought you
were at Castletowers."

It would have taken a keener observer than
Saxon to discover that the wish was father to
Mr. Trefalden's thought; but there could be no
doubt of the relationship.