'Will, I suppose that you are a fool because you are a musician. Wish? A man like that who has injured you as much as he could and as often as he could will go on: it is the nature of such a man to injure others: his delight and his nature: he craves for mischief almost as he craves for gambling.' 'You are bitter against--your husband, Jenny.' 'I am very bitter against him. I have reason.' 'But about the revenge. Of what kind is it?' 'You may do this. His father, the Alderman, has withdrawn from any active partnership in the business, which is conducted entirely by Matthew. He passes now an idle life beside Clapham Common, with his gardens and his greenhouses. Go to this poor gentleman: tell him the truth. Let him learn that his son is a gambler: that he is wasting all that is left to waste: that his losses have been very heavy already: and that the end is certain bankruptcy. You can tell your uncle that you saw yourself with your own eyes Matthew losing a hundred and fifty-five guineas in the card-room of a Masquerade: this will terrify him, though at first he will not believe it: then he will cause the affairs of the House to be examined, and he will find out, if accountants are any use, how much has been already wasted. Mind, Will, I invent nothing. All this I know. The House is well-nigh ruined.' 'How do you know all this, Jenny?' 'Not by visions, certainly. I know it from information. It is, I assure you, the bare truth. The House is already well-nigh ruined.' 'I fear I cannot tell my uncle these things.' 'It would be a kindness to him in the end, Will. Let him learn the truth before the worst happens.' I shook my head. Revenge is not a pleasing task. To go to my uncle with such a tale seemed a mean way of returning Matthew's injuries. 'I do not counsel revenge, then,' she went on, again divining my thoughts. 'Call it your safety. When you have alarmed your uncle into calling for an explanation, go and see the man Probus.' 'See Probus? Why?' 'I would separate Probus from his client. Go and tell the man--go and tell him without reference to his past villainies that his client Matthew is an incurable gambler, and that all the money Probus has lent to him has been lost over the gaming table.' 'Tell Probus?' The thought of speaking to Probus except as to a viper was not pleasant. 'I have made inquiries about Probus,' She knew everything, this woman! 'He is of the tribe they call blood-suckers: they fasten upon their victim, and they never let go till such time as there is no more blood to suck. There is some blood left. Probus will never think of you while he is saving what he can of his own. Tell the money-lender this, I say, and what with Probus on the one hand, maddened by his loss, and his own father on the other, well-nigh terrified to death, Matthew will have enough to do.' 'Would you like me to do this, Jenny?' 'I should like it done,' she replied, turning away her face. 'Would you like to do it yourself, Jenny?'