“Well, sir, things happens without particularly caring for our convenience,” answered Chewkle, with a hiccup, which left a strong odour of some beverage--not green tea--behind it. “We would all like things to fall out jest as we would wish ‘em, but they don’t, an’ it seems as if the more you wish ’em the more they won’t.” “Well,” said Mr. Grahame, not liking this preface. “Well,” continued Chewkle, “an’ when things run cross, we must, if we wants to right ’em, go to work at once, without caring about convenience. At least, them’s my sentiments, an’ that’s my way o’ doing business.” “A very proper way, no doubt, my good friend,” exclaimed Mr. Grahame, growing yet more anxious, “but pray tell me what _has_ happened.” “Well, a very orkurd matter, as things stand,” replied Mr. Chewkle. “What is it?--what is it?” cried Mr. Grahame, feverishly. “Why, just this--old Wilton’s out.” “Out?” “Yes, out o’ quod.” “Out--out--out of prison?” gasped Mr. Grahame, clutching at a chair for support. “Nothing else,” replied Chewkle, placing his hands behind him, and rocking himself backwards and forwards on his toes and heels, in a very dangerous fashion for one in his state. “Escaped--escaped?” inquired Mr. Grahame, his eyes almost starting out of their sockets. “No such luck!” answered Chewkle, “if he had, he’d a’ soon been nabbed agen, and taken back to ha’ been kept closer than ever.” “What do you mean?--speak out, man! you are inflicting upon me indescribable torture!” exclaimed Grahame, excitedly. “Is he--is he dead?” “Dead! no; he’s got more lives than a cat, he has. No, sir; he’s out of quod because he’s been and paid all the money.” “Paid the money!” echoed Mr. Grahame, incredulously. “Every mag of it, sir--every farthing. He has wiped off the detainer lodged at the gate agen’ him, and he is free to roam about agen.” Mr. Grahame stood as if thunder-stricken. “Impossible!” he ejaculated, like one in a dream. “Fact, sir, all the same for that. I saw Scathe, the managing clerk to your solicitor, and he told me all about it. The debts and costs is paid, and Wilton is out. The money has been paid under protest, sir; so you can’t touch a penny on it until you’ve proved your right to it by a haction-at-law. Scathe says he don’t think anything o’ that, because the firm holds a dockyment, which Wilton has signed in your favour, as ’ll put him out o’ court slap. Now, what I wants to know is this--is the dockyment he spoke of the same as----” Mr. Grahame clutched his wrist, looked around him with trepidation, and raised his finger warningly. Mr. Chewkle hiccuped again, and lowered his tone, and added-- “Is it the same as--as--as you signed for him?” Mr. Grahame drew a deep breath, but made no reply. Chewkle was a shrewd reader of physiognomy, and obtained the information he sought from the distorted workings of Mr. Grahame’s haggard features. He gave vent to his sensations on learning what he sought to know, in a low, prolonged whistle.