“Oh! very well--then we shall see!” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef, taking up a pen, dipping it deep into the ink, and making believe that he was about to take down the answers to be given to his questions--so as to catch the opposing creditor out perjuring himself if possible: “will you swear, Mr. Fopperton, that you have not been insolvent seven times?” “Yes, sir--I _will_ swear to that,” returned the tailor with alacrity. “You will swear. Well--will you swear that you have not been insolvent five times?” “Yes, sir--I will swear to that too.” “You will swear to that, too. Now mind what you’re about, Mr. Fopperton: take care what you say,” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef, in a tone of awful menace. “Will you swear that you have not been insolvent three times?” “No, sir--I--I can’t swear to that,” answered the tailor, looking very miserable. “You can’t swear to that. Now, can you deny it?” “No, sir--I cannot,” said Mr. Fopperton. “You cannot,” repeated Mr. Cadgerbreef, casting a glance at Captain O’Blunderbuss, which seemed to say, “I have him now!”--then, again addressing himself to the opposing creditor, he exclaimed in a domineering, browbeating manner, “Take care what you are about, Mr. Fopperton;--and now tell me whether you have not been bankrupt, as well as insolvent, several times.” “No--only once bankrupt,” cried Mr. Fopperton, impatiently. “Well--once bankrupt--and enough too, when coupled with three insolvencies!” said the learned gentleman, in a tone which very significantly implied his belief that the opposing creditor was the greatest scoundrel in the universe. “And pray how much have you ever paid in the shape of dividend, sir?” “I really can’t say at this moment: I----” “Oh! you can’t--can’t you!” cried Mr. Cadgerbreef: “then I’ll see if I can refresh your memory;”--and, taking out of his pocket a letter from some friend or relation, he pretended to examine it with very great attention, as if it contained some damning testimony relative to Mr. Fopperton’s dealings--although, in reality, it had no more connexion with him or his affairs than with the man in the moon. “I think I recollect now, sir,” said the West-End tailor, getting frightened: “I--I----” “Well, sir--can you answer my question?” demanded Mr. Cadgerbreef, laying his fore-finger on the letter in a marked and formal manner, just as if he were pointing to the very paragraph which furnished all requisite information respecting the tailor. “I will repeat it again for you: how much have you ever paid, collectively and under all your numerous insolvencies and frequent bankruptcies, in the shape of dividend?” “Two-pence three farthings in the pound, sir,” answered Mr. Fopperton, in a low tone.