"He ought to be hung!" And he went on talking rapidly about Bradley's deserts. Neil knew the bluster was affected in order to prevent recurrence to the subject of money, and with a heart hot and wounded he sat down to write his resignation of the offices which were his principal support. Curtis was disconcerted and uneasy, and his last words on leaving the office were an entreaty to Neil to do "nothing foolish and hasty." But the papers were written, and then he took himself to the proper departments. He was woefully unhappy. His father's and mother's condition made his strong heart tremble, and though no one could have supposed from his appearance that he had a single care, the sudden falling away of his friends and acquaintances wounded him like a sword. As he walked the streets, so gravely erect, so haughtily apart, he was made to feel, in many ways, that he had lost in public estimation. No one took the trouble to ask him a favor or stopped to seek his opinion, or told him bits of gossip about events transpiring. He was classed with the Bradleys. The Misses Robertson passed him with the most formal of recognitions; Miss Smith did not notice him at all, while Joris Van Emerslie, who had taken his advice the previous week about the sale of his business, crossed the street to avoid him. Friends were not far behind enemies. As he stood a moment on the steps of the barracks commissary, Judge Lawson, an old man and an intimate acquaintance of the Semples, stopped and said, "Good-morning, Neil. I am glad to see you here. I heard Cornelius Bloch had asked for your position and was likely to get it." "I did not resign my position, Judge, until five minutes ago. The commissioners have not yet received it." "Very true, but every one knew you must resign--the servants of the King must be above suspicion, eh?" "Suspicion, sir!" "Now, now, Neil! You must keep your temper for younger men; I am too old to be bluffed." Then Neil walked silently away, and the old friend of the family watched him with a queer mingling of pity and satisfaction. "Proud creatures, them Semples, old and young," he muttered; "but good, true hearts in them, I'm half sorry for Neil, he was always ready to do me a kindness; but a little pull-down won't hurt him, he carries his head too high for anything." But high as Neil carried his head, his heart was in the depths. It seemed to him that all the fair, honorable life he had built was falling into ruin. He needed now both help and sympathy, and his friends looked coldly upon him, or took the same reproving tone as the self-righteous comforters of the man of Uz. Full of bitter thoughts he was walking down Queen Street, when he heard a soft, familiar voice, almost at his ear, say, "Mr. Semple! Honored sir, will you speak to me for a few minutes?" He looked up quickly, and saw that he was close to the doorstep of Jacob Cohen, the Jewish dealer in fine furniture, china, jewelry, etc.