falling--falling--falling; down, down, down, it went, till his scrip was
so much waste paper! His loss was irretrievable. The wealthy member whom
he had consulted, lost nearly one hundred and twenty thousand pounds,
and was driven to the very verge of ruin. Mr. Weasel even--caution
personified, in dealing with the little accumulation of his hard
earnings--lost upwards of a thousand pounds; and Mr. Runnington, about
double that sum. It required a great stretch of fortitude on the part of
Mr. Aubrey to sustain this severe and sudden blow with anything like
equanimity.--You should have seen and heard Mrs. Aubrey and Miss Aubrey,
on that occasion, in order fully to appreciate the rich and melting
tenderness of woman's love, sympathy, and fortitude.
This catastrophe--for surely such it was--had left him about £350 only
in the funds, and in his banker's hands a little balance of some fifty
or sixty pounds to meet his current expenses. The above amount, at the
time when Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap's letter reached him, had been
necessarily diminished to about £290; which was positively all the money
he had in the world, to save himself, and those dependent on him, from
absolute destitution. Yet he was now peremptorily called upon, within
three days' time, to pay the sum of £1,446, 14s. 6d.
He hurried off, early the next morning, in consternation, to Messrs.
Runnington. Mr. Runnington, with a heavy heart and a gloomy countenance,
set off instantly, alone, to the office of Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and
Snap. He saw Mr. Gammon, who told him, with a well-dissembled air of
disgust, to go in to Mr. Quirk, or Mr. Snap. He did so, and found them
inexorable. Mr. Quirk doggedly told Mr. Runnington that he had been out
of pocket long enough, and would not be fooled by one of his own
partners any longer. Mr. Runnington quitted them, fairly at his wits'
end; and, on his return, told Mr. Aubrey, whom he had left at his office,
that he had done, and could do, "nothing with the vultures of Saffron
Hill." Mr. Runnington felt that his unhappy client, Mr. Aubrey, was far
too critically situated with respect to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap,
to admit of his threatening, on Mr. Aubrey's behalf, to refer their
exorbitant and monstrous bill to taxation. He knew not, in fact, what
suggestion to offer--what scheme to devise--to extricate Mr. Aubrey from
his present dreadful dilemma. As for applying for pecuniary assistance
from friends, Mr. Aubrey's soul revolted at the bare thought.
What--borrow! Overwhelmed as he already was, it would be indeed grossly
unprincipled! Was not one alone of his generous friends at that moment
under a liability on his behalf of more than ten thousand pounds! No;
with gloomy composure he felt that, at last, _his hour was come_; that a
prison wall must soon intervene between him--poor broken-hearted
soul!--and the dear beloved beings from whom, as yet, he had never been
once separated--no! not for one moment deprived of blessed intercourse
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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