two together, and once the roofing business gave
way, any one could see. Heard about Lackson,
their strong man? Not been seen for days; ill,
they say, and Tillotson ill too. No wonder."

These hints led to disclosures in a private
interview over the claret, between the rival
secretary and a great financial chairman, with
whom the rival secretary was anxious to stand
well. With him he was quite explicit.

"It's all true, Mr. Wick," he said. Lackson's
in America or Norway by this time, and
he'll pull them all down." This news was
received by the chairman with, " My goodness!
seemed always a sound thing. Pity about
Lackson, though—-a fine head for business.
Wish we had him. When he has pulled through
all this, we might open to him."

By next morning the town knew the whole
story. In the City articles of all the papers
were mysterious hints perfectly intelligible
to those who were acquainted with the Stock
Exchange cabala, and before the bank opened
its doors the secretary and officials saw with
dismay a crowd of people and a file of carriages
waiting to assail them. This they
did not care for in itself, but the dangerous
significance, and what it portended, was what
they dreaded. The truth burst on them.
They had been betrayed; or, rather, it was
hopeless to keep such a secret as theirs. As
for the Roofing Company, that was gone
hopelessly, and no one thought of it now. It
was a financial corpse, and the sooner the
remains were got away and buried, even with
indecent haste, the better. But as soon as
business began in the Money Market, it was
evident that a panic had set in about the stock
of the GREAT FONCIER COMPANY.

These were ghastly times for the Foncier
Bank, a flutter, hurried meetings, more hurried
investigations, proposals for " winding up," for
prosecution, for investigation. There were meetings
of angry shareholders, and a leading article
in the great journal, pointing the moral and
showing us all what we were to learn from the
instance of the Foncier collapse. The gorgeous
building—-the masterpiece of " Middle-age
Jenkinson"—-stood there desolate and closed; and
even its finery and magnificence gave it an air
like the jewellery on a thief or pickpocket.

While this convulsion was going on, Mr. Tillotson,
utterly unconscious of the wreck, was mending
again slowly. It was more by a mental effort.
There was an eager vitality about him which
made him triumph over sickness. But Mrs.
Tillotson he motioned from his room with flashing
eyes. When he spoke, he said gently, "Don't
come to me. You will only expose yourself to
danger. Don't let us be acting any longer;
and when I get well, I promise you——"

She would only make a grieved protest, and
then begin to sit lonely and solitary below in
her drawing-room. In three or four days more
Sir Duncan said, "We were doing much better,
but must be cautious;" and that morning the
secretary to the bank came, and was allowed to
see him. He told Mr. Tillotson the whole story
of the late break up. " It will take a long
time to set right; for we shall be in a perfect
mess of law, and winding up, and references,
and the rest. We shan't save a sixpence out of
the smash. It is very unlucky; for, if the panic
hadn't come, and you'd been on your legs, we'd
have pulled through even in spite of the Roofing
business, and that schemer, Lackson."

Mr. Tillotson heard all the details with an
indifference that seemed amazing to the secretary.
"Well, you are wonderful," he said; "a true philosopher;
just the man for a chairman. l always——
But what made you publish the business when I
cautioned you so strongly? 'Pon my word, I
believe that was what brought it all about."

"I published nothing," said the other,
wearily. " I knew nothing to publish."

"O yes," said the other. " You told that
man Ross, or gave him my letter, and he showed
it to that churl Marshall, and Marshall lost
no time in spreading it abroad. A thorough
man of business, that. Out of curiosity, Tillotson,
why did you do that?"

"Ross showed it," said Mr. Tillotson, with
eyes brightening; " how could he get it?"

"The very point," said the secretary; " how
could he get it? I wish," he said, rising, " we
could have seen you a week ago. Things
would have been all square now. I declare I
am quite sorry for the poor old Foncier, and
get a squeeze about here whenever I pass it
by. Not that it affects me—-I have had a dozen
offers already, and good ones. Good-bye."

Mr. Tillotson was not listening to him. His
eyes were fixed on a point on the wall opposite,
in an eager speculation. In a moment he rang
the bell. " Send up Martha Malcolm," he .said.

That grim attendant came up. " Martha,'' he
said, " I want you to try and recollect something
that happened during my illness. Try, now, for
it is all-important. Was there any letter came
here from the bank about four days ago? Try ."

Martha answered, promptly, " There was.  I
brought it up myself, and gave it to her."

"To her?" he repeated, starting.

"And she opened it and read it, and Mr.
Ross was sitting there beside her, and that was
the day when what I have told you of already,
took place."

When she was gone, he burst into an agony,
tossing his arms wildly. " This is all clear now.
Because I come between her and her love, she
thinks she cannot punish me enough. She has
got my secret, and she has ruined me. But I
shall disappoint them," he said, starting up. " I
will make one more struggle. Yet I have no one—-
no one—-to watch for me, to help me. I am
alone and abandoned to their mercy."

In Number 383, for August 25, will be commenced
                 A NEW SERIAL STORY,
BY THE AUTHOR OF "LAND AT LAST," "KISSING THE ROD,"
                         &c. &c.