Now, I may as well mention here, that about nine o'clock in the evening, Mr. Parkinson had brought to Crafty _sure_ intelligence that a very zealous and influential person, who was entirely in the confidence of the enemy, had come to him a little while before, and candidly disclosed the very melancholy position of his--the aforesaid communicant's--financial affairs; and Mr. Parkinson happened to be in a condition to verify the truth of the man's statement, that there was a writ out against him for £250; and that, unless he could meet it, he would have to quit the county before daybreak, and his very promising prospects in business would be utterly ruined. Mr. Parkinson knew these matters professionally; and, in short, Crafty was given to understand, that so disgusted was Mr. M'Do'em--the gentleman in question--with Whig principles (his inexorable creditor being a Whig) and practices, such as the bribery, treating, and corruption at that moment going on, that--his conscience pricked him--and--ahem!--the poor penitent was ready to make all the amends in his power by discovering villany to its intended victims. Crafty, having felt the ground pretty safe underneath him, took upon himself to say, that Mr. M'Do'em need be under no further apprehension as to his pecuniary liabilities; but, in the mean while, he would certainly wish for a little _evidence_ of the _bona fides_ of his present conduct. "Come," quoth M'Do'em, after receiving a pregnant wink from Mr. Crafty--"send some one whom you can rely upon with me _immediately_, to do as I bid him--and let him report to you what he shall actually see." No sooner said than done. A trusty managing clerk of Mr. Parkinson's forthwith accompanied M'Do'em on a secret expedition.... They stood at a window with a broken pane. 'T was a small ill-furnished kitchen, and in the corner, close to the fire, sat smoking a middle-aged man, wearing a dirty brown paper cap. Opposite to him sat two persons, in very earnest conversation with him. They were Mr. Mudflint and Mr. Bloodsuck, junior. "Come, come, _that's_ decidedly unreasonable," quoth the former. "No, sir, it _a'n't_. I'm an independent man!--It quite cut me to the heart, I 'sure you, sir, to see Mr. Delamere so dreadfully used--my good missus, that's in bed, says to me--says she"---- "But what had Mr. Titmouse to do with it, you know?" said Mudflint, taking out of his pocket a bit of crumpled paper, at which the man he addressed gazed listlessly, shook his head, and exclaimed, "_No, it won't do_----He didn't desarve such treatment, poor young gentleman." (Here Bloodsuck and Mudflint whispered--and the latter, with a very bad grace, produced a second bit of crumpled paper.) "_That's_ something like"--said the man, rather more good-humoredly. "Is't _sartain_ Mr. Titmouse had nothing to do with it?" "To be sure not!--Now, mind, by a quarter past eight--eh?" inquired Mudflint, very anxiously, and somewhat sullenly.