'His power is gone,' said the Bishop. 'He won't get my more rewards.' 'Yes,' said the turnkey. 'But he has had a long innings. Why, he must be nearly fifty. There's a many would envy Merridew.' The Bishop once more addressed himself to me. 'Sir,' he said, 'I grieve to hear that our friends wrecked the Black Jack and Madame's house. I fear these acts of violence may make you vindictive.' 'Madame herself was brought in yesterday--for receiving stolen goods.' 'Madame? Madame brought here? On a charge----?' The Bishop's face expressed the liveliest concern. 'Why,' said the Captain. 'It's----' A motion of his fingers to his throat showed what he meant. 'Nothing could have been more disastrous,' said the Bishop. 'Believe me, Sir, we have nothing to do with the wreck of the houses, and we were ignorant of this charge, I assure you, Sir. Oh! This is a great misfortune!' The misfortune, it appeared, lay in the danger--nay, the certainty, that this persecution would make both Madame and myself more vindictive. Now the events of the Trial, when at a word, as it seemed, from Madame--witnesses sprang up in a cloud to confront them with their villainy, made them believe that she had friends everywhere. 'It cannot be,' said the Bishop, 'but she will get off. Who is the principal evidence?' 'Ask the Captain. And that is enough.' I stepped across the yard and laid my finger on Probus's shoulder as he sat with bowed form and hanging head. He looked up with lack-lustre eyes. I believe that the loss of his money and the result of his conspiracy had affected his brain, for he seemed to pay no heed to anything. 'Mr. Probus,' I said. 'I must tell you that my cousin is now bankrupt.' He stared without any look of recognition. 'Mr. Probus,' I repeated, 'my cousin Matthew is a bankrupt. I tell you, in order that you may send in your claim with those of the other creditors.' 'Ay--ay--' he replied. 'Very like.' 'Bankrupt!' I said again. 'Even had you succeeded in your plot you would have been too late.' He nodded without attention. 'And another mass of debts has been added. His wife's house has been wrecked by the mob and all her property destroyed. Therefore her liabilities have been presented to her husband.' 'All gone!' he moaned. 'All gone! The work of an honest lifetime wasted and thrown away. Nothing will ever be recovered.' 'Mr. Probus,' I said, 'the money is gone. That is most true. But more than that is gone. Your character--your honour--it is all gone--wasted and thrown away--none of it will be recovered.' 'All gone--all gone,' he repeated. The turnkey stood beside me. 'Queer, isn't it?' he said. 'He's lost his money and his wits have gone after it. A money lender, he was. He's put more poor folk into the Fleet and the King's Bench than his friend Merridew has put prisoners here. And he ought to be thinking of something else--his trial and his sentence.' 'His sentence?'