Old Matt Space had a certain amount of pride in his composition, and, like most people, he suffered for it. He would gladly have received assistance of the most trifling nature from Septimus Hardon the day they returned from Finsbury; but his companion seemed so dejected and doleful that he had not the heart to bring forward his own troubles, and so it followed that the same night he was complaining to himself about hard times--those ever-recurring, inhospitable seasons when mental storms beat upon the rocks of a man's faith, and many a shipwreck follows. Hard times--times that the science, charity, and statistics of our days soften so little. Warm sunshine, genial rain, bright skies, have but little influence, and the times keep hard for some, though others, by means of softening mediums, contrive to remain uninjured. In his dry way old Matt would sometimes say that if he did not cut up well when he died, he should certainly cut up streaky--like thin bacon; for times so fluctuated with him that before a small layer of fat was well established, the lean would again commence; while, if it is fair so to speak of a man whose life had been one long struggle for bare existence, Matt had been somewhat improvident. What he called runs upon the bank were common events with the old printer--times when there were no deposits made, and trade was slack; it was a pleasant trade, printing, he said--nothing to do to-day, and to-morrow busy, up all night afterwards, and then perhaps another long rest. Old Matt stood in front of the Royal Exchange that night at eleven o'clock, weak from his long illness, tired and faint too, as he lingered there thinking of how he would like to make an onslaught upon the Bank of England, and fill his pockets, now reduced to the lowest ebb, for he had not sixpence wherewith to pay for a night's lodging. He had not been to the mansion of Mr Gross to sleep but once since his return from the hospital; for he was largely indebted to that gentleman, and though scarcely anything had been said, Mrs Gross had dropped just a mild hint, what she considered an exceedingly mild hint, to the effect that, when it was convenient, they would be glad to receive one or two instalments on account. This made Matt more shy, and after a day or two he stopped away altogether, so that when Septimus Hardon sought at his lodgings, he found him not, and had to inspect the interior of two or three hostelries favoured by the fraternity before he found him out.