When Pasco seated himself in the chaise beside the solicitor, an expression of satisfaction came over his face. He was returning to Coombe as a man of consequence, and in good society. How the villagers would stare to see him in a carriage drawn by post-horses. An April weather reigned in his heart, now darkening with apprehension, then brightening with pride and self-satisfaction. Ever and anon the ghastly figure of his brother-in-law in the sack, burning, rose before his mind’s eye, but he put it from him. As the chaise entered Ashburton, Pepperill said to his companion’“Will you accommodate me with a sum of money till I come in for my inheritance?” “With the greatest pleasure, but I have not much loose cash about me.” “You have your cheque-book. The circumstances are these’I owe money for wool to a fellow named Coaker, and gave him a bill’unfortunately, I could not meet it, the bank returned it, only a few days ago, and this has made me very angry. I should like to show the bank and Coaker that I am not the moneyless chap that they choose to consider me.” “I shall be happy to assist you. Let us go to the bank at once; I’ll settle that little matter with them. Shall I do it for you?” “I shall be obliged, but I think I must go also.” It was possible that the tidings of what had taken place might have reached Ashburton’possible, though hardly probable. His uneasiness was relieved when he entered the bank. No allusion was made to any fire. The banker was profuse in his apologies. He could not help himself. There were certain rules in his affairs that he was bound to follow. He had no doubt it was an oversight of Mr. Pepperill not to pay in the sum required, but a man so full of business as he was reputed to be was liable to such slips of memory. The banker knew Mr. Squire by reputation, was quite sure all was as it should be. He would at once communicate with Coaker’indeed, Coaker was sure to be in Ashburton that day, and let him have the money of the bill. For some distance Pasco held up his head, and talked boastfully. He had taught that banker what he really was. Everyone else knew he was a man of his word and a man of substance. The solicitor was glad of this change in his companion’s mood, and talked chirpily. But the change in Pepperill’s manner did not last long. As he neared Newton, he leaned back in the carriage. He did not desire to be recognised and saluted with the news of the fire. The chaise drew up for the horses to be watered at the inn which had been rebuilt after a fire. “Will you have a drop of something?” asked the solicitor. “I shall descend for a minute. I suppose we have not got far to go now?” He left the chaise, and left the door open. Pasco closed it, and being affected with sneezing, opened his pocket-handkerchief and buried his face in the napkin, as the landlord came to the door. He did not lower the kerchief, he listened from behind it to the host conversing with Mr. Squire.