"Slow work, sir," said Matt, stopping again, "glad to see you, though, once more. Thought at one time, if ever I did it would have been upon a cork-leg, sir; for I couldn't have stood a wooden peg, sir, anyhow; a cork-leg all springs and watchwork, like old Tim Christy's, as used to squeak with every step he took, just as if, being of cork, someone was trying to draw it; and he never oiled that leg, for fear it should go too easy. But there, I'm all right again," he continued, taking a pinch of snuff, "and I call this real enjoyment, sir--real enjoyment. Only wait till I've put him all right upon that point, and I'll have a bit of dissipation. Let's see: the Vice-chancellor will be sitting like a great god, listening to the prayers of the petitioners in Chancery. I'll have an hour there, sir, and then take a sniff of the ink in one of the old offices; and confound it all, sir, I wish you could join me! I'll have half-a-pint of porter in Fetter-lane. I'm in for a regular round of dissipation, I am, just to make up for all this being shut up." On again went the old man, rather short of breath, till he was well in sight of the hospital at the end of the street; when, raising his eyes just as he was about to stop, he caught sight of a pale, weary face at one of the windows, and shuddered and turned away; but the next moment he had stopped and turned, and was waving a hand to the patient gazing from his prison-window. "God bless you, mate!" said Matt aloud, "and may you soon be out of it!" And then there was a reply waved to his salute, and the old man turned down the courts to the left, and soon stood in Bennett's-rents. "What, Matt!" cried Septimus Hardon, hurrying to open the door as he heard his slow step upon the stairs; while Lucy took the old man's other hand and helped him to a seat. "What's left of me, sir--what's left," said the old man cheerily; "and here I am right and clear-headed, and I did see it all, sir: and I've recollected it, and got it all put down here, so as you can read it, and safe in my head too. It wasn't fancy, it was all right; and I did see it, as I told you, in what must have been the old doctor's books." "But where? when?" cried Septimus eagerly. "And there was the name--`Mrs Hardon, medicine and attendance, so much;' but of course I thought nothing of it then." "But," cried Septimus, as he hooked a finger in a button-hole of the old man's coat, "where was it?" "Gently, sir, gently," said Matt, unhooking the finger; "mind what you're after: stuff's tender. But there: you'll fit me out with a new suit when you're all right--won't you, sir, eh?" "A dozen, Matt, a dozen!" cried Septimus eagerly. "And Miss Lucy here's to have as full a compassed pianner as can be got, without having one as would burst and break all the strings--eh, miss, eh?" Lucy smiled sadly.