"That Layton has had the deeds. It could have been no other." Thomas Godolphin listened in surprise, not to say incredulity. "How have you had them confirmed?" he inquired, after a pause. So then the clerk enlarged upon what he had seen. "It could not all come out of his salary, Mr. Godolphin. It does not stand to reason that it could." "As a daily extravagance, of course it could not, Hurde," was the reply. "But it may be only a chance entertainment?" Mr. Hurde passed over the question: possibly he felt that he could not meet it. "And the betting?--risking money upon race-horses, sir?" "Ah! I like that less," readily acknowledged Thomas Godolphin. "Many a clerk of far higher position than Layton has been ruined by it." "And sent across the herring-pond to expiate his folly," returned Mr. Hurde, whom the mention of "backing" and other such incentive temptations was wont to exasperate in no measured degree. "I am afraid it looks pretty plain, sir." "I don't know," said Thomas Godolphin musingly. "I cannot think Layton has become a rogue. I see nothing inconsistent--with all due deference to your opinion, Hurde--I see nothing inconsistent with his position in his entertaining a few friends occasionally. But--without any reference to our loss--if he is turning, or has turned a betting-man, it must be looked after. We will have none such in the Bank." "No, sir; it would not do at any price," acquiesced Mr. Hurde. "Are you feeling pretty well, sir, this evening?" he inquired, as Mr. Godolphin was preparing to continue his way. "Quite well. I have not felt so well for a long time, as I have done the last few days. Good night, Hurde." It seemed that Mr. Hurde was fated that night to come into contact with his principals. Who should overtake him, just as he had come to the spot where the houses were numerous, but Mr. George Godolphin. George slackened his steps--he had been walking along at a striding pace--and kept by his side. He began speaking of the hay and other indifferent topics: but Mr. Hurde's mind was not attuned to such that night. "I think I have solved the mystery, Mr. George," began he. "What mystery?" asked George. "The stealing of Lord Averil's bonds. I know who took them." George turned his head sharply and looked at him. "What nonsense are you saying now, Hurde?" "I wish it was nonsense, sir," was the reply of Mr. Hurde. "I am as sure that I know how it was those bonds went, and who took them, as that I am here." "And whom do you accuse?" asked George, after a pause, speaking somewhat sarcastically. "Layton." "Layton!" shouted George, stopping in his astonishment. "What Layton?" "What Layton, sir? Why, our clerk Layton. I ought to have had my doubts of him before; but I suppose I had dust in my eyes. There are he and his wife entertaining the world; their room crowded: a dozen people, very nearly, and she, Layton's wife, sitting down to the piano with pink bows in her hair." "What if she is?" asked George.