“You are a beggar, yourself, and a blackleg, a scoundrel, I repeat; but don’t imagine for one moment you will ever receive a penny of mine—no, not a farthing. Go!” “Dishonoured you, you old scoundrel!” Phillip began, laughing and grinning, “dishonoured you? Why, it is you who have dishonoured me! Why don’t you pay the insurance policies on my father’s ships, you old rascal? If you were to do so all the debts would be paid, and to the utmost fraction; but you managed to fail, did you? Well, your turn will come one of these days. “I do _not_ come, sir, to ask from you anything for myself. I would _scorn_ to receive a penny from your miserly dishonest hands, but I come to demand from you, in the name of my wife, the £5,000 which you hold that belongs to her, as her aunt’s legacy; _this_ is my business with you, sir, and I shall not stir until you pay it.” “You won’t, eh?” said Sir Andrew, rising. “I suppose you saw my wife drawing from the bank this morning, as you are a clerk there now, and thought it a proper time to come and bully me, eh? No, no,” said the old man, opening a small safe and taking the packet of notes therefrom, “no, no, I am penniless. I am a ruined man, and all through _you_, Phillip, I haven’t a penny of my own now. I am totally dependent on my wife. I am a beggar, and can pay no one. You needn’t trouble yourself by calling again, sir; I shall be out of town for several months. _This_, sir, flourishing the packet of notes, _this_ sum, sir, is all I can now call my own, and part of it is my travelling expenses.” He placed the notes upon the table, saying, “This miserable sum is all I can now call my own. Tell your be-lov-ed wife, sir, that when my affairs are a little settled, and I can see my way clear, I will, _perhaps_, pay her aunt’s legacy; but even, in _that_ case, she must call for it _herself_, for I wouldn’t trust _you_, Phillip Redgill, with a penny piece.” “You will not pay her then, eh? you old villain,” said Phillip, intently eyeing the old man, who was undoing the packet of notes. “Well, then, I’ll _take_ it,” said he. Rushing towards the table, he nearly succeeded in seizing the packet, but the old man’s hold upon it was so firm and tiger-like, that Phillip was unable to do so. In the scuffle which ensued, the packet fell to the ground, and the notes were strewn about in all directions; but, to the horror of both parties, it was _not_ a package of bank notes, but nought else than a package of bank scrip given in mistake! This sudden discovery startled both father, mother, and son. They stood looking at the bank scrip as if in a dream! Sir Andrew sank in his chair, hiding his face with his hands. “There is roguery and robbery on every side,” said he, in a husky voice. “_That_ packet came from the South Sea Bank, Mr. Redgill, and should have contained bank notes.