"You should see the supper-table, Mr. George," continued Hurde, too much annoyed with his own view of things to answer superfluous questions. "I can't tell what they have not upon it: silver, and glass, and decanters of wine. That's not all out of his salary. And Layton is taking to betting." "But what about the bonds?" impatiently questioned George. "Why--are not these so many proofs that Layton must have stolen the bonds and made money of them, sir? Where else could he get the means from? I have imparted my suspicions to Mr. Godolphin, and I expect he will follow them up, and have it fully investigated." "Then you are a fool for your pains, Hurde!" retorted George in anger. "Layton no more took--I dare say Layton no more took those bonds than you did. You'll get into trouble, if you don't mind." "WHAT, sir?" uttered Hurde, aghast. "That," curtly answered George, "if you 'follow up' any chimera that your brain chooses to raise, you must expect to get paid out for it. Let Layton alone. It will be time enough to look him up when suspicious circumstances arise to compromise him. The bonds are gone: but we shall not get them back again by making a stir in wrong quarters. The better plan will be to be quiet over it for a while." He resumed his quick pace and strode along, calling back a good night to Mr. Hurde. The latter gazed after him in undisguised astonishment. "Make no stir! let the thing go on quietly!" he articulated to himself. "Who'd say such a thing but easy George Godolphin! Not look up Layton? It's well for you, Mr. George, that you have men of business about you! He'd let himself be robbed under his very nose, and never look out to see who did it. However will things go on, if the worst happens to his brother?" It seemed that they were all saying the same--how would things go on, if the worst happened to Thomas Godolphin? For once in his life of service the old clerk chose to ignore the wish--the command if you will--of Mr. George Godolphin. He did _not_ let Layton alone. Quite the contrary. No sooner did Layton enter the Bank on the following morning, than Mr. Hurde dropped upon him. He had been watching for his entrance the last ten minutes; for Mr. Layton arrived late, the result possibly of the past night's extensive scene of revelry. He had settled himself in his place behind the counter, when the chief clerk's voice arrested him. "I want you, Mr. Layton." Now, the fact was, Mr. Hurde, having slept upon the matter, arose perplexed by sundry doubts. The circumstances against Layton appeared by no means so conclusive to his mind as they had done the previous night. Therefore he deemed it good policy to speak to that suspected gentleman in a temperate spirit, and see whether he could fish anything out, rather than accuse him point-blank of having been the delinquent. "This is a nasty business," began he, when Layton reached him, in answer to his call. "What is?" asked Layton.