"Then--say Wednesday, nine o'clock, A. M. You understand? No mistake, Fitz!" replied his companion, looking him steadily in the face as he spoke. "None--honor!"--After a pause--"Who is it?" His companion took a slip of paper out of his pocket, and in a whisper read from it--"Cab, harness, &c., £297, 10s." "A villain! It's been of only three years' standing," interrupted the other, in an indignant mutter. "Between ourselves, he _is_ rather a sharp hand. Then, I'm sorry to say there's a Detainer or two I have had a hint of"---- The swell uttered an execration which I dare not convey to paper--his face distorted with an expression of mingled disgust, vexation, and hatred; and adding, "Wednesday--nine"--drove off, a picture of tranquil enjoyment. I need hardly say that _he_ was a fashionable young spendthrift, and the other a sheriff's officer of the first water--the genteelest _beak_ that ever was known or heard of--who had been on the look-out for him several days, and with whom the happy youngster was doomed to spend some considerable time at a cheerful residence in Chancery Lane, bleeding gold at every pore the while:--his only chance of avoiding which, was, as he had truly hinted, an honorable attempt on the purses of two hospitable country cousins, in the meanwhile, at C----'s! And if he did not succeed in that enterprise, so that he _must_ go to cage, he lost the only chance he had for some time of securing an exemption from such annoyance, by entering Parliament to protect the liberties of the people--an eloquent and resolute champion of freedom in trade, religion, and everything else; and an abolitionist of everything, including, especially, negro slavery and imprisonment for debt[2]--two execrable violations of the natural rights of mankind. But I have, for several minutes, lost sight of the admiring Titmouse.