“I have never been able to attribute it to any cause,” was the reply; “I had no heavy losses; I was engaged in no great ventures; I was perfectly solvent; I am solvent, in fact, now; but still I know I must stop; I have fought as long as fighting seems of any use; now I must adopt another plan.” “If you were aware of the cause of your loss of credit, would it help you to battle through?” asked Arthur. “That would depend entirely on the cause,” was the reply. “Supposing it were private malice,” Arthur suggested; “suppose an enemy to have been at work.” “I have not an enemy in the world,” Mr. Raidsford answered. “If you read that, perhaps you will alter your opinion,” Arthur remarked, handing him the letter he had received. “Mr. Raidsford, I could not rest till I had come to you; I feared my own purpose might undergo a change before morning. I knew it was right you should be told this thing, and yet I hesitated about showing a letter which strictly is none of my property. I shall speak to Black about what I have done; you know now who has been your enemy, and I trust it may not be too late for you to repair the mischief he has caused.” And with that Arthur left the room, and wended his way back to Lincoln’s Inn Fields. He had never liked Mr. Raidsford, and he could not be very cordial to him, even at the moment when he was stretching out his hand to save the contractor from ruin. He had not done him this service out of good-will, but because right was right, and justice, justice. He had hasted to serve this man, whom he always regarded with jealousy and distrust; but it was not in Arthur’s nature to feel other than bitterly the fact, that while he was able to serve Mr. Raidsford he was unable to extricate himself; that though Moorlands might be preserved, still Berrie Down was heavily mortgaged. The very step he had taken, moreover, would, he knew, make his own position more difficult. With Mr. Black for an enemy, what troubles might he not expect to have to face in the future—what about his bills, what about Berrie Down, what about his means of actual subsistence? If a man could, secretly and anonymously, damage another’s credit, plot and scheme to beggar a person against whom he had a grudge, watch the growth of his plans through months, and never flinch nor falter in the execution of his purpose, what might Arthur not expect at his hands, after having baulked him in his design? All that night Squire Dudley lay awake, thinking in what words he should tell Mr. Black he had found him out, exposed his scheme, and defeated his carefully-prepared plot.