Lyons had kept up for a great number of years; but this was known only to those with whom in their relation with Mr. Lyons a melting-pot was associated, and these were very few in number. Mr. Griffiths was getting desperate, for the last half-crown out of the ten pounds lay in his pocket, and his principal Mr. Effingham had already spoken to him rather sharply on the matter. He had been to all Mr. Lyons's known haunts; he had spoken to a dozen people who were known to be of his intimates; but he could obtain no tidings of him. Some thought he might be at Amsterdam, where the diamond-sale was going on; others had heard him mention his intention of visiting Frankfort about that period; some laughed, and wondered whether old Malachi had heard of the plate-robbery, "thalvers ath big round ath a cart-veel, and thpoonth, all new, not a bit rubbed!" which had lately taken place. But no one could give any precise information. And time was going on, and Mr. Effingham's patience and Mr. Griffiths's stock of ready-money were rapidly becoming exhausted. One night, going into "Johnson's" as usual, Mr. Griffiths saw his principal seated at one of the tables, and not caring to confront him just then, was about quietly withdrawing as much of his tall hat as he had already protruded through the swing-door, when he was espied and called to by Mr. Effingham. "Come in, there; don't think I didn't see you, because I did. What a slimy cove you are, Griffiths!--that's what I complain of; nothing fair and above-board in you." "Who's to be fair and above-board," growled Mr. Griffiths, "if they're to be everlastingly growled at and badgered? What I come here for is to be quiet and 'ave a little peace, not to be worritted and downed upon. D'rectly I see you sittin' here, I knowed it'd be, 'Well, and wot's up?' and 'Ain't you got no news?' and 'Wot a feller you are, not to 'ave learned somethink!' so, as I didn't seem to care about that, I was goin' away agen." "Poor feller," said Mr. Effingham with great contempt, "don't like being worried or having to work for your livin', don't you? I wonder you didn't get yourself a government berth, where pokin' the fire and whistlin' tunes is what they do when they're there, which is only the three winter months of the year. So you've brought no news?" "Not a stiver, not a ha'porth, not a blessed word. There, you may as well take it all at once!" said Griffiths in desperation. "And you've been everywhere likely?" "Everywhere,--in every gaff and crib where there was the least chance of hearin' of the old boy; but not a word." "Now you see what a thing luck is," said Mr. Effingham sententiously; "I believe that old City cove who said he couldn't afford to know an unlucky man was right after all; and I'm not at all sure I'm right, Master Griffiths, in not dropping your acquaintance, for certingly you're an unlucky buffer, if ever there was one."