papers to examine, and show them the money, the friend acted on the thought which was burning his heart out, and he sent for Peter Johnson. Now Mr. Johnson, who figures in our narrative, for the first time was a negro, and he it was, who, in the dead of night when all was still, wheeled the mysterious bags of bullion to and from the old vaults in the Commissariat. The money-lender sent for Peter Johnson and told him that he had altered his mind, and that the bags and their contents must be home again that very night. Peter proceeded at once, and stealthily approaching the vaults, opened the heavy doors with his key, got out the money, and wheeled it home again, and Mr. Commissary Price slept on in babe-like innocence. And so did his friend. And so did Mr. Peter Johnson. And so did the Board of Commissioners. In the morning, Mr. Price rubbed his hands and dressed himself with scrupulous propriety, that he might meet his masters in a becoming manner. And the Board of Commissioners got ready too, and they drove round to Mr. Price's in a body, and before entering on their duties there was much merriment among them, and one facetious old gentleman who was always joking and saying good things, you know, remarked to the others in his delicious way, that almost every man had a price, but none had a Price like their's, and then he chuckled and slapped Price on the back, and Price chuckled, and the Board chuckled, and I have no doubt whatever but that Mr. Peter Johnson and his master would have chuckled too had they heard it. And then the party went down to the office and began to overhaul things, and everything was all right, and the books were found correct. And then a stupid old member of the Board asked to have the money brought in to be counted, just to comply with the regulation, not that they doubted friend Price. "O, no, but an absurd form demanded it," &c., &c. And Mr. Price was affable and kindly, and said, "O yes, gentlemen, I shall be quite happy to show you the funds which are all safe in the vault, I assure you. Saw them myself no later than the other day," &c., &c. And everyone said that was all right, and the iron doors were unlocked and swung back! But where was the money? Mr. Price was as pale as death, and turned to the astonished commission, when he said, "Come, gentlemen, now a joke is a joke, what have you done with the money?" But Mr. Price discovered before long that the world was not quite a smile, and he was marched off to prison, and the facetious old gentleman said to the gentleman who only wanted the money produced to gratify an absurd whim of the Government, "Who would have believed it?" And so the Inspectors walked out, behind Mr. Price, who was placed in durance vile and suffered as we have seen.