She pondered a moment, and then she recollected that it must be the lawyers' clerk, sent by Mr Trump to appoint the interview for the next day, when Markworth would hear the worst. She gave a sigh of satisfaction, and went to her lodgings contentedly. Messrs. Solomonson and Isaacs came to their offices the next day at their usual time, about half-past ten o'clock, and proceeded to set about their introductory business. Letters had to be opened, documents arranged, the list of bankrupts in the papers looked to and compared with another list of their own of the men indebted to them; in fact, all the minutiae of their daily routine had to be seen to before setting actually to work and "interviewing" their clients, or more properly speaking, customers or borrowers, for they did more in usury than law, although the appellation "solicitors" was on their door plate. The term indeed was better suited to the clients than the firm. Mister Isaacs was at the moment engaged upon comparing the bankrupt lists, when a sudden exclamation from his partner Solomonson, who was opening the letters and glancing at their contents, startled him. "Father Abrahamsh!" ejaculated that worthy. "Gott in Himmell! how about der monish?" "Vat's der matter, my tearsh?" enquired Isaacs, in anxious suspense. "Noting's wrongsh mit der bank?" "No, mine Isaacs, it is not ter banksh! Mein Gott, der monish! der monish! It is all oop wit Markevorts; der shoot is ruined!" "Sholomonshon, ma tearsh, vat you mean? The suit lost! Vy it ain't tried yet." "No mein sohn, it is not trite and perhaps never vills!" And then he explained the purport of the letter. "It's a svindel!" said Isaacs. "Ow butch did he get from you, Solomonshon?" he asked, although he well knew. "Eleving hundert! And we vos to get tree tousand--tree tousand pounds!" He told Isaacs a lie, and Isaacs knew it. "And now ve can't get himsh? Is he got no monish?" "No monish, but vat der shoot vood have bringsh." "And it is all gonesh?" "Ja, tso! all gonesh if de lettersh be true!" "And ve vood 'ave got tree tousaud, Sholomonshon?" "Ja! tree tousand pound! der villainsh! der swindlersh! Tree tousand poundsh, and look'd as shafe as der bank! Tree tousand poundsh; never no moresh!" The Jew repeated this over and over again, and almost wept in his anguish. It should have been mentioned before that Solomon was a Hebrew of Teutonic proclivities, and had emigrated from the _Juden Strasse_ in Berlin, where he had originally belonged before he took up with his partner Isaacs and set up business in Chancery Lane, London. After a hasty consultation Solomonson and Isaacs rushed off together to the offices of Messrs. Trump, Sequence, and Co., to hear whether the ill-fated news was true.