"Will you come with me then?" asked Rupert.

"I," repeated the other, "in what character would you have me appear? If as a friend, he would retort that I am also a creditor; if as a creditor, he would at once pooh, pooh! me, because I am a friend. No. Do your part boldly, and when that connection is fairly at an end come to me for help, and you shall have it."

Which was all very good advice, though Mr. Gibbons gave it; indeed it was so good, that, with a very ill-grace, Rupert at last consented to see Mr. Forde, and parted with Mortomley for that purpose.

He had arranged to meet his relative at five o'clock, so that they might return to Homewood together; and as there was no reason to hurry the impending interview between himself and the manager of the Chemical Company, as there was indeed every reason to retard its advent, he took a cheerful walk all by himself along Cheapside, through St. Paul's Churchyard, down Ludgate Hill, over Blackfriars Bridge, whence he wended his way to Southwark Bridge _via_ Bankside.

When he looked at his watch in Thames Street, however, he decided his call might still be advantageously deferred for a short time longer, and he accordingly retraced his steps over Southwark Bridge, and, when he reached the Surrey side of the river, threaded his way through many a narrow lane and curious passage till he found himself in the Borough Market.

By that time Mortomley must be considered to have nearly finished his business; so, buttoning his coat tight across his chest, he gathered up his courage, drew a long breath, and stepped briskly across the bridge to St. Vedast Wharf and the interview already described.

It is no exaggeration to say that when he beheld Mr. Forde take his hat and leave the office, Rupert felt that, although it might be problematical whether by that simple movement the manager had cut the knot of his own difficulties, there could be no doubt he had thereby sundered the worst entanglement in Mortomley's path; and it was, therefore, with a sensation of little short of despair he beheld Mr.

Forde reappear and heard him inquire,

"Now, what is the meaning of all this--how has it come about?"

"As I suppose such things usually do," was the almost sullen reply; "through shortness of money."

"Don't be insolent to me, sir," retorted Mr. Forde. "You know it has come through no such thing; it has come through gross bad management and cowardice, of which a child might be ashamed, and utter laziness and want of energy."

"Well, we need not quarrel about the cause, Mr. Forde," said Rupert, "and as hard words break no bones--particularly when they chance to be untrue,--we will not quarrel over the last part of your sentence either; the end has come, and in my opinion the only matter to be regretted is that it did not come sooner."

"Your opinion," repeated Mr. Forde with a sneer.

"It may not be worth much I admit," said Rupert in agreement, "but such as it is you are welcome to it; and now, Mr. Forde, as there cannot be the slightest use in our prolonging a disagreeable interview I will wish you good afternoon."

"Don't go yet," exclaimed the manager peremptorily. "Confound that fellow, where has he got to?" having added which rider to his sentence, he took his hat once more and hurried out of the office.

"I wonder if he intends to give me in charge," thought the young man, who was much perplexed by Mr. Forde's mysterious change of manner.

"Never mind, I hope I shall never set foot in this office again." A hope which was realized, but not in the way he desired.

Up and down the office he commenced pacing again. No one before had ever been made so free, or made himself so free of it as to take such a liberty; but the brand-new carpet and the furniture smelling strongly of varnish, and the manager's airs of alternate affability and terrorism, were nothing to Rupert now. He had sworn to himself from the time he broke ground with Mortomley, that Mr. Forde should be an incubus on his life no longer.

"I would rather have a settled term of penal servitude than an uncertain period of slavery under Forde," he had remarked more than once to Mr.

Gibbons; and then Mr. Gibbons, who managed his own affairs extremely well, and who was not over-particular, so people said, about always rendering to other men exactly what was their due pecuniarily, asked what could have induced him and Mortomley to become Forde's bond-servants.

Whereupon Rupert, who could rap out an oath in a style which must have caused Mr. Asherill to shed tears had he heard his utterances, replied, "He believed Forde had got to the soft side of his uncle with some 'damned infernal rubbish' about his wife and children, and being ruined himself."

At which Mr. Gibbons laughed again, and happening to own a few shares in the General Chemical Company, directed his broker to sell them.

According to Mr. Gibbons' account, when he next met Mr. Forde, he had never been so short of money in his life as at that particular period.

He pledged his word, nothing except dire necessity could have induced him to part with those especial shares.

When times mended a little, he should like to re-purchase, but he supposed there would be then none in the market.

"I will try to get you a few privately," said Mr. Forde, knowing his companion had not spoken a word of truth during the whole of their conversation, and Mr. Gibbons thanked him, understanding perfectly well that Mr. Forde was perfectly well aware he regarded the General Chemical Company as a Company going, generally speaking, to the dogs; and the pair shook hands, and bade each other "Good-bye" most cordially, and parted apparently on the very best of terms.

Now this Mr. Gibbons was the gentleman who, having taken Mr. Mortomley's measure at a very early period of their business acquaintanceship, recommended him not to see Mr. Forde till the liquidation business was past recall; and the reader may therefore imagine the nature of Rupert's feelings, he having unbounded faith in Mr. Gibbons' powers of discernment, when he beheld Mr. Forde re-enter his office accompanied by Mortomley.

The impending bankrupt looked flushed and tired. Mr. Forde's face bore on it a mingled expression of triumph and anxiety. Rupert surveyed the pair distrustfully. If he had ever doubted the accuracy of Mr. Gibbons'

judgment, he certainly did not doubt it then, when he beheld Mortomley led captive into the lion's den.

Without asking his visitors to be seated, Mr. Forde flung himself into his own especial chair, crossed his legs, stuffed one hand deep down into his pocket, and said "You may not be aware of it, but this is a very serious thing for me."

"I am afraid it is," agreed Mortomley, leaning in a limp attitude against the manager's desk, one hand resting on it, the other which held his hat hanging down by his side.

As for Rupert, seeing Mr. Forde did not think it necessary to remove his head gear, he at once and defiantly covered his curly black locks, and took up a position close to the window, out of which he stared assiduously.

"And it is a very serious thing for you," observed Mr. Forde in the tone and in the manner of an open-air preacher.

No honest man placed in such a position could dispute the truth of this proposition, and Mr. Mortomley did not attempt to do so.

"And I really do not see how you are to get through it," went on Mr.

Forde.

"I think--indeed, I am sure I shall not have any opposing creditor--unless it may be you," said Mortomley suggestively.

"Oh! as for me," answered Mr. Forde, "I shall walk out of the concern whenever you go into liquidation. I have pledged myself so deeply concerning your solvency and respectability that I could not face my directors over your account. It is a fact, I could not. I must leave; and I am not a young and adaptable man, like your nephew there, able to play at football with fortune, and I am not like you, Mr. Mortomley, so fortunate as to have married a wife possessed of money. When I go all goes; when this salary ceases, I have not the faintest idea where to turn to procure another, and what is to become of my wife and children God alone knows. Poor little Alfie!" added Mr. Forde _sotto voce_, apostrophizing the latest pug-nosed, round-faced, vacant-eyed darling with which Mrs. Forde had as yet blessed the managerial mansion.

That shot went straight home. Mortomley thought of his wife and his Lenore, and remained ashamedly silent. Mr. Forde perceiving his advantage pressed it.

"You are the last man I should have considered capable of taking such a mean advantage."

"Good heavens!" broke in Mortomley, "what would you have me do? Can I keep on a business with men in possession, with judgments out against me, with writs returnable next week and the week after. Mean advantage!

I have borne what I think no other man living would have done, and I believe I have been a simple fool for my pains."

At this juncture Rupert interposed.

"If you allow Mr. Forde to persuade you to draw back now you will be a simple fool."

"Keep silence, sir," said Mr. Forde facing round on this undesired prophet.

"I shall not keep silence if I see fit to speak," retorted Rupert angrily.

"You have spoken a great deal too often of late," was the reply. "Owing to your representations I have been induced to tell my directors that Mr. Deane intended to go into partnership with your uncle, and--"

"Stop," interposed Rupert. "Let me contradict one _canard_ at a time.

_I_ never said Mr. Deane would go into partnership with Mr. Mortomley, but you did, and I then told you Mr. Deane would do no such thing. You then suggested he might lend money to the concern. I told you he would not. Of course you will try to make your own story good, but mine is the true version of the affair."

With a shrug--which Mr. Forde believed to be of a style a Frenchman might have envied--the manager turned once again to Mortomley.

"We will waive that question for the present," he said. "I suppose you do not really want to go into the Gazette; you have no private reason for desiring to liquidate your affairs?"

"No, indeed," was the answer.

"And the act is, you tell me, not past recall?"