"I'm a partner in a wholesale tea-house, sir," cried Mr. Dundyke, flourishing his hand and his ring for the stranger's benefit. "Our establishment is one of the oldest and wealthiest in Fenchurch-street; known all over the world, sir, and across the seas from here to Chinar. And as respected as it is known." "Sir, allow me to shake hands with you," exclaimed the stranger, warmly. "To be a member of such a house does you honour." "And I am a common-councilman," continued Mr. Dundyke, his revelations increasing with his satisfaction, "rising on fast to be a alderman and Lord Mayor. No paltry dignity that, sir, to be chief magistrate of the city of London, and ride to court in a gold and scarlet dress, and broidered ruffles! I suspect we have got some lords round about us here," dropping his voice to a still lower key, "but I'm blest, sir, if I'd change my prospects with any of them. I'm to be put up for sheriff in October." "Ah," said the stranger, casting his deep black eyes around, "young scions with more debts than brains, long pedigrees and short purses, dealers in post obits and the like--_they_ can't be put in comparison with a Lord Mayor of London." "And what line are you in, sir?" resumed the gratified Lord Mayor in prospective. "From our great city, of course?" The stranger nodded, but, before he answered, he finished his second _cotelette_, poured out some wine--for his breakfast disdained the more effeminate luxuries of tea and coffee--popped a piece of ice in, and drank it. "Have you heard of the house of Hardcastle and Co.?" he asked, in a tone meant only for Mr. Dundyke's ear. "The East India merchants?" exclaimed the latter. The stranger nodded again. "Of course I have heard of them: who has not? A firm of incalculable influence, sir; could buy up half London. What of them?" "Do you know the partners personally?" "Never saw any of them in my life," replied Mr. Dundyke. "They are top-sawyers, they are; a move or two above us city tea-folks. Perhaps you have the honour of being a clerk in the house, sir?" "I am Mr. Hardcastle," observed the stranger, smiling. "Bless my soul, sir!" cried the startled Mr. Dundyke. "I'm sure I beg pardon for my familiarity. But stop--eh--I thought----" "Thought what?" asked the stranger, for Mr. Dundyke came to a pause. "That Mr. Hardcastle was an old man. In fact, the impression on my mind was, that he was something like seventy."