"And then I asked him if he would take a glass of sherry; and though he was once a high and mighty sort of gentleman, he thanked me and did take it. That's the fruits of competition, sir, which some people think is so good for trade."

Turning the corner of the road sharply at this juncture, they came upon a man who stood leaning over the close fence which on that side enclosed the kitchen gardens at Homewood.

It was early to meet a stranger in such a neighbourhood, more especially a stranger who not being a working man had evidently no better employment than to stand out in damp weather surveying local landmarks.

He did not take any notice of either Rupert or his companion, continuing to lounge against the fence and contemplate vegetable-marrows, cabbages, and parsley.

Rupert, however, turned twice or thrice and took a long steady survey on each occasion.

"Who is that man, Lang?" he inquired.

"Never saw him before. He looks up to no good," answered Mr. Lang.

Rupert and the manager walked a few steps further, and then began to retrace their steps.

As they did so, they beheld the stranger lounging slowly before them, stopping at intervals to inspect the appearance of Homewood from different points of view, and giving the two an opportunity to pass him again.

"Beg pardon," he said, when they were close upon him, "but can you oblige me with a light?"

He addressed Lang, but Rupert answered him by producing a box of matches.

"I wonder who that man can be," remarked Rupert once they were out of earshot.

"He _is_ up to no good," said Mr. Lang emphatically.

"I don't think he is," agreed Rupert uneasily, but neither he nor Lang could have defined the precise form of evil they believed the stranger had set himself to compass.

Had any one at Homewood kept a diary, however, which no one did with the exception of Lang, who prided himself not a little on the neatness and accuracy of his day-book, there would have been little in the events of the next eight-and-forty hours worth chronicling.

The clerks arrived as arranged, and before they had finished their work Mr. Benning appeared to see how they were getting on and have a look round the place, and ask a few questions of Rupert and Mrs. Mortomley, and a great many when he got the chance of wandering about the works unaccompanied, of Lang, Hankins, and even the rank and file of the working men.

He came, though Rupert was unaware of the fact, to try and find out something, but whatever that something might be he failed to make any discovery, excepting that the extent of Mr. Mortomley's trade had not been exaggerated, and that about the serious and possibly dangerous nature of his illness no rational doubt could be entertained.

Having satisfied his mind on these points, he and the clerks returned to town, taking as accurate a list of the liabilities as could be prepared in the time with them.

The same night Esther returned from Great Dassell, eloquent in praise of Miss Gerace, who had sadly wanted her to remain at all events till the following morning, and from whom she brought a very kind little note, saying she would gladly take charge of Lenore until Mr. Mortomley was better, and their difficulties of whatever nature they might be, overcome.

Next day Mr. Benning reappeared, accompanied by a Commissioner, to take Mr. Mortomley's affidavit that to the best of his belief the accounts furnished were accurate.

This ceremony occupied about half a minute, but under the circumstances it did prove an exhilarating performance, and to any one superstitious about such matters, the steady downfall of rain which had commenced on the previous Saturday, and never really left off since it began, was suggestive of a considerable amount of bad weather in the business journey Mortomley had been compelled to undertake.

Late in the afternoon Miss Halling and her brother took their departure.

The young lady's luggage had all been despatched earlier in the day, and Rupert's seemed to consist merely of a black leather bag. Nevertheless, when Dolly went into his room she found it stripped of every article belonging to him, even to the sketch of Lenore at five years of age which always hung over the mantel-piece.

The young man had made sure of the safety of his own possessions, and Mrs. Mortomley had sense enough to commend his wisdom.

Nevertheless there is a wisdom which hurts, and Rupert's hurt her.

"I was right," she thought, "they are rats and the ship is sinking." And from that hour she braced up her courage to meet whatever fate might be coming, bravely--as she certainly would have done had she in fact stood on the deck of a vessel foundering in the midst of a wild and cruel sea.

Towards evening there arrived at Homewood a respectable looking sort of individual, who announcing that he was the bearer of a note from Mr.

Swanland to Mrs. Mortomley, was asked without delay into the library.

Mrs. Mortomley looked at him and felt relieved. Here was a middle-aged confidential clerk, not at all like a man in possession, and she greeted him with civility, not to say cordiality.

"Pray sit down," she said, and Mr. Meadows seated himself with an apparent show of deference, all the time he understood quite as well as Mr. Bailey, there was not a chair in Homewood which did not already belong of right, not exactly perhaps to him, but his employer.

Then Mrs. Mortomley opened the note and read--

"Dear Madam,

"The bearer, Mr. Meadows, will inform you that everything is going on satisfactorily. He may be able, I trust, to relieve you from all anxiety and responsibility, and I have directed him to make his presence as little irksome as possible. To-morrow, if possible, I hope to call at Homewood, in order to make arrangements for the future. In the meantime, dear madam,

"I have the honour to remain, "Yours faithfully, "V. S. SWANLAND.

"To Mrs. Mortomley, "Homewood, "Whip's Cross."

Mrs. Mortomley read this epistle over three times. If she had not been enlightened on the point, it would never have occurred to her that Mr.

Meadows was to be located at Homewood.

Having been enlightened, however, she asked,

"Do I understand you are to remain here?"

"It will be necessary for me to do so, madam," he answered, "until the preliminaries are settled. In fact, it is quite possible I may have to stay here until after the meeting of creditors."

Mrs. Mortomley paused and reflected. She did not know he was letting her down easily, and there was a feasibility about his statements which to her mind stamped them with a certain authenticity.

"Should you like tea or supper?" she asked after that mental conference--unconscious still, poor Dolly! that there sat the representative of the legal owner of Homewood and all it contained.

"Either can be sent to you here immediately."

"If you have no objection ma'am," he answered, "I will go into the kitchen out of the way--and I can take share of what is going--"

"You are very thoughtful," said Mrs. Mortomley, "but I could not really think of allowing such a thing. You can have your own rooms here and--"

"I would rather go into the kitchen, ma'am," he persisted. "In these cases I like to be out of the way and give no trouble."

"That's extremely kind of you," said Mrs. Mortomley, and he failed, for a reason, to hear the ring of sarcasm in her tone. "You shall be made comfortable wherever you are, for I suppose now you are come--the men in possession will go out."

"Not to-night," he answered; "I have no instructions in the matter.

To-morrow, Mr. Swanland purposes to be here, and then no doubt, everything will be gone into and arranged."

So on Tuesday evening a third man joined the kitchen family circle at Homewood, and added the smoke of his pipe to the smoke of those already in possession. Wednesday came, the morning and the noon and the afternoon passed without incident.

Dolly had been much with her husband. Mr. Meadows took occasion to wander into the works, and was treated at first with much respect.

Really anywhere Mr. Meadows might have passed--to those who did not know he elected to live in the kitchen--for a small manufacturer--for a master reduced to take a clerk's place.

And Mr. Meadows had once occupied a very different position to that of an accountant's bailiff, and how he ever chanced to occupy himself in Mr. Swanland's service astonished all the people employed about Homewood.