Having giving utterance to which Christian desire Mr. Kleinwort departed, leaving even Werner astonished at the tone of deadly hatred he concentrated in one sentence. "I believe you would do it too, you little devil," he decided. "Well, I will go and tell Forde about the mine, and give him a chance of selling." But Mr. Forde was not at the wharf. "He had received a letter by the second post," explained one of the clerks, "which obliged him to start at once for Newcastle." Mr. Werner smiled. He understood the cause of that sudden journey, but he only said, "I will look round again on Friday." But when Friday came, it was useless for him to do so. The shares in that especial mine were a drug in the market. Every one was hastening to sell, and no man could be found to buy. Meantime, however, fortune, which never proves more utterly capricious than when we believe ourselves down for life in her black books, had relented and done Mr. Forde a gracious turn. On the occasion of that meeting in behalf of the heathen, to which Mr. Forde referred so contemptuously, Samuel Witney, Esq., took the chair, and after various missionaries and others interested in the good work had addressed the assemblage, and votes of thanks had been returned to everybody for something, proposed to his dear brother in religion that, as they must return to their respective homes from the Waterloo Station, they should walk thither together. Perfectly well Mr. Asherill understood the reason of this suggestion, and for one moment he hesitated whether he should not charter a cab to the City and tell Mr. Witney the literal truth, namely, that he generally travelled to and from his snug villa residence _viâ_ the North London Railway. But immediately he decided to face the difficulty. Sooner or later his fellow Christian was certain to question him about Mortomley, and the sooner he did so, the less difficulty there might be in answering his inquiries. "I was very much surprised to see in the 'Times' this morning that Mr. Mortomley had gone into liquidation," began Mr. Witney. "Sad affair, is it not?" said Mr. Asherill, feeling his way. "It is sad for us. We are creditors, as of course you are aware." "I have been given to understand as much, but I am glad to know that you are not creditors for any large amount, that is, I mean for anything serious. A few thousands is of course a bagatelle, to a great concern like the General Chemical Company." "Humph!" ejaculated Mr. Witney. He did not care to say the loss if total would mean half dividend or none at all, and yet still he was too much exercised in spirit to be able to remain silent under the grievance. "One does not like to lose even a comparatively small sum," he observed at length. "That is quite true," agreed Mr. Asherill, casting about in his own mind to find the real reason why Forde, Werner, and Kleinwort had all been so desirous to keep Mortomley on his feet.