Meadows provided against surprise and discovery. His study had double doors. Neither of them could be opened from the outside. His visitors or servants must rap with an iron knocker; and while Meadows went to open, the secret visitor stepped into the passage and shut the books behind him. It was a room that looked business. One side was almost papered with ordnance maps of this and an adjoining county. Pigeon-holes abounded, too, and there was a desk six feet long, chock full of little drawers--contents indicated outside in letters of which the proprietor knew the meaning, not I. Between the door and the fireplace was a screen, on which, in place of idle pictures, might be seen his plans and calculations as a land surveyor, especially those that happened to be at present in operation or under consideration. So he kept his business before his eye, on the chance of a good idea striking him at a leisure moment. “Will Fielding's acceptance falls due to-morrow, Crawley.” “Yes, sir, what shall I do?” “Present it; he is not ready for it, I know. “Well, sir; what next?” “Serve him with a writ.” “He will be preciously put about.” “He will. Seem sorry; say you are a little short, but won't trouble him for a month, if it is inconvenient; but he must make you safe by signing a judgment.” “Ay! ay! Sir, may I make bold to ask what is the game with this young Fielding?” “You ought to know the game--to get him in my power.” “And a very good game it is, sir! Nobody plays it better than you. He won't be the only one that is in your power in these parts--he! he!” And Crawley chuckled without merriment. “Excuse my curiosity, sir, but when about is the blow to fall?” “What is that to you?” “Nothing, sir, only the sooner the better. I have a grudge against the family.” “Have you? then don't act upon it. I don't employ you to do your business, but mine. “Certainly, Mr. Meadows. You don't think I'd be so ungrateful as to spoil your admirable plans by acting upon any little feeling of my own.” “I don't think you would be so silly. For if you did, we should part.” “Don't mention such an event, sir.” “You have been drinking, Crawley!” “Not a drop, sir, this two days.” “You are a liar! The smell of it comes through your skin. I won't have it. Do you hear what I say? I won't have it. No man that drinks can do business--especially mine.” “I'll never touch a drop again. They called me into the public-house--they wouldn't take a denial.” “Hold your prate and listen to me. The next time you look at a public-house say to yourself, Peter Crawley, that is not a public-house to you--it is a hospital, a workhouse, for a dunghill--for if you go in there John Meadows, that is your friend, will be your enemy.” “Heaven forbid, Mr. Meadows.” “Drink this basinful of coffee.” “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. It is very bitter.” “Is your head clear now?” “As a bell.” “Then go and do my work, and don't do an atom more or an atom less than your task.”