that he had looked again through the papers.
He had been rather under, than over, the
figure, had Hooknose. It was very, very
bad—about as bad a case as had come within
his professional experience; and, for the life
of him, he could not see his way to extrication.
By compounding and proper paring,
something over the debts might be got out of the
sale.

"That is your comfort, Mr. Hackleton;"
I said, "but your cure?"

"Wait," said Mr. Hackleton, "there is
more to say. You have a good name and
good blood. Precious refined blood. Taking
it at so much per drop—and I believe the
human form contains a very large quantity
—you might go with it into the city and get
money for it," quoth Hooknose, dryly.

"And eternally corrupt it!" I said.

"No," Hooknose answered, reflectively,
"I don't see it in that way. Seriously, sir,
you might improve it. Mankind is pretty
much under the same laws as other animals.
Judiciously crossed, the breed improves.
Perhaps the English aristocracy owes its
good physical condition to frequent
intermarrying with the commonalty. Look at
the old French nobility! they married in
and in amongst themselves, until they got
to be a sort of species of human spider.
Here is rank heresy for you, outspoken from
the mob!"

My lips curled at this speech of the low
man. The man was familiar. But I had
need of him.

"Improve by deterioration!" I said, with
a kind of scoff. "Unlikely chemical process!"

"Most true, Mr. Sundon," he said. "But
this chemistry of blood has the queerest
laws. Now, only think! For my brother
and myself—who I really believe have come
in direct line from those gaol birds whom
Romulus got together for his Rome—for us
to have thoughts on pedigree and descent,
and blood, seems ridiculous. Yet I often
turn such things over in my mind, when
at work—say, when making out a bill of
costs!"

I should like much to have known, was
this man sneering or in downright earnest?
Bill of costs! true plebeian illustration.

"Yet," he continued, making a hollow
cup of both his hands for his chin, "yet, if I
could make out a tree up to the gaol birds,
should I not be an out-and-out patrician?
The finest blood in the country. Come!
There's logic for you!"

What odd notions were these concerning
gaol birds and pedigree! What was the
man at?

"As I take it," Hooknose continued, "it
is the pure ascertaining—the bare holding
out of a torch to light all the steps of your
pedigree, that makes the thing so glorious:
how queer, then, if his torch showed a man
—say my Lord Willoughby's furthest ancestor
—swinging from a gallows. Perhaps
Sally, the scullion below, has about as good
a lineage as my lord; only, poor soul, she
can't afford to have it traced!"

I felt the old curl upon my lip. The broad,
coarse way he had of putting the thing!

"We had best return to business," I said;
"we were speaking of money."

"O, certainly," he answered, with
extraordinary humility, "certainly! certainly!
These are not topics for such scum as mere
Hackletons: folk born under a counter. But
to come to business again. There is that
barony of yours—barony in nubibus—
supposing you came into it: you could have
that bill done in the city too."

"There must be money," I said.

"Your chances are fair enough, I am told,"
Hooknose answered; "but rest assured that
this is the only plank left to you."

Hackleton said no more; but his words
left their mark.

Without travelling up so far as the city,
what if I looked round me within a circle
bounded by the Hackleton domain? This I
spoke to myself, sinking into a chair in the
spick-and-span Factory study. Take hold
of the plank! Take hold of the plank, held
out by a saffron-haired mermaid, who has
now floated past the window!

That morning from my own confidential
attendant I had heard abundant details
concerning her conduct during my three days'
weary tossing. How she had been hovering
about, with anxious tearful eyes and saddest
expression. Could the clouds have been
parted for the sick man, he would have
seen the face wrought by the divine painter,
looking out with gentlest sympathy. Take
hold, Hooknose said, take hold of this
plank. Take hold of it! said also scowling
Foreclosure. Foreclosure might be
expected at any hour; nay, at this moment
he might be on the ground in possession.
The bare notion set me all a-trembling. And
yet, outside, among the garden bowers, might
be found balm and panacea for all troubles.
Rescue from difficulties—salvation—cure!
What if there was one little grain of truth
in those odd, strange, ridiculous speeches of
Hooknose? Take hold of the plank! And
with that cry within me I slowly rose, and
passed out hesitatingly into the garden.

With trembling and astonishment Golden-
Haired heard my heart-sent, earnest vows.
With even something like a cry, too, hastily
suppressed.

"Have you thought well over this?" she
said. "O have you thought well of it?"

She was quite scared and dazed: "It
cannot be," she exclaimed, and was for flying
away. There is a programme usually on
these occasions, so I took this to be a first
step in the business, and stopped her.

"You love another," I said, thinking of
the old hackneyed form.

No, it was not that, she could assure
me, still ready to sink upon the walks. She