This storehouse; in an indiscreet moment; had been left unguarded--unprotected; open to the lustful hand of any lucky individual, like himself, who, dropping in promiscuously, as he had done, could enrich himself and disappear with his prize, swiftly and unobserved, leaving no trace behind him. Mr. Chewkle broke out into a nervous perspiration, and instantly became active; he groped about for the table, which no doubt had a drawer where the keys of chests containing heaps of gold and notes were deposited. He found a table, and felt for the coveted drawer. Then he uttered a roar of fright. In a corner of the room a light suddenly displayed itself. It shone brightly on the face of Nathan Gomer, grinning hideously at him. In another moment his eyes were dazzled to blindness by the light being turned full upon his own face. He heard Nathan, in his strange shrill voice, cry-- “Oh! Chewkle, is it? My good, industrious friend Chewkle come to pay me a visit, to serve me, of course, and himself slightly, perhaps? How do you do, Chewkle?” Large drops of cold perspiration rolled down that individual’s forehead; he tried to speak, but for the minute he found his voice was gone, and he could only make one or two hoarse sounds in his throat. Nathan Gomer, who had been lying screwed up in an arm chair, now rose up and lighted a lamp from a bull’s-eye lantern which he had in his hand, and then he motioned to Chewkle to be seated. “I found the door open,” abruptly observed Chewkle, feeling that an explanation of his peculiar proceedings was due from him. “I know you did,” said Gomer, with a grin. “I opened it for you--wire and spring simple enough.” “Ah,” said Chewkle, “I thought you was out, and had left valuable property about.” “He! he! and you were trying to find it out, so as to secure it, eh?” returned Nathan, with a grin. “Hem!” coughed Chewkle. “I--I--it was very dark, and I was gropin’ about for--for--for----” “The lucifer box, I suppose,” suggested Nathan, sarcastically. “That’s jest it; I thought to myself that you had left----” “But I never do, Mr. Chewkle; I am not of an absent or forgetful nature; I am a methodical man; and do everything systematically. Well, now _we_ have a light; you are seated, and so am I. You have come to me with some purpose, and minutes are more precious than gold. Mr. Chewkle, to your business at once.” “Mr. Gomer, that’s jes’ what I likes, and that’s why I preferred comin’ to you to goin’ direct to Mr. Wilton.” “Mr. Wilton?” “Yes, sir; he ’as was lately in the Bench, and is now at Harleydale Manor, Devon. A friend of yourn I believe, sir.” “Your business is directly, then, with him?” “He is directly affected by it,” returned Chewkle, dropping his eyes, unable to endure the bright gaze of the little golden-hued money-lender. “And you desire to negociate the matter through me,” continued Gomer, as Chewkle paused. “I do,” he answered. “Proceed,” said Gomer, laconically.