"Hillo," said the driver, "don't seem well." "Lost my money," said M'Guire, in tones so faint and strange that they surprised his hearing. The man looked through the trap. "I dessay," said he: "you've left your bag." M'Guire half unconsciously fetched it out; and looking on that black continent at arm's length, withered inwardly and felt his features sharpen as with mortal sickness. "This is not mine," said he. "Your last fare must have left it. You had better take it to the station." "Now look here," returned the cabman: "are you off your chump? or am I?" "Well, then, I'll tell you what," exclaimed M'Guire: "you take it for your fare!" "Oh, I dessay," replied the driver. "Anything else? What's _in_ your bag? Open it, and let me see." "No, no," returned M'Guire. "O no, not that. It's a surprise; it's prepared expressly: a surprise for honest cabmen." "No, you don't," said the man, alighting from his perch, and coming very close to the unhappy patriot. "You're either going to pay my fare, or get in again and drive to the office." It was at this supreme hour of his distress, that M'Guire spied the stout figure of one Godall, a tobacconist of Rupert Street, drawing near along the Embankment. The man was not unknown to him; he had bought of his wares, and heard him quoted for the soul of liberality; and such was now the nearness of his peril, that even at such a straw of hope he clutched with gratitude. "Thank God!" he cried. "Here comes a friend of mine. I'll borrow." And he dashed to meet the tradesman. "Sir," said he, "Mr. Godall, I have dealt with you--you doubtless know my face--calamities for which I cannot blame myself have overwhelmed me. Oh, sir, for the love of innocence, for the sake of the bonds of humanity, and as you hope for mercy at the throne of grace, lend me two-and-six!" "I do not recognise your face," replied Mr. Godall; "but I remember the cut of your beard, which I have the misfortune to dislike. Here, sir, is a sovereign; which I very willingly advance to you, on the single condition that you shave your chin." M'Guire grasped the coin without a word; cast it to the cabman, calling out to him to keep the change; bounded down the steps, flung the bag far forth into the river, and fell headlong after it. He was plucked from a watery grave, it is believed, by the hands of Mr. Godall. Even as he was being hoisted dripping to the shore, a dull and choked explosion shook the solid masonry of the Embankment, and far out in the river a momentary fountain rose and disappeared. FOOTNOTE: [4] The Arabian author, with that quaint particularity of touch which our translation usually praetermits, here registers a somewhat interesting detail. Zero pronounced the word "boom"; and the reader, if but for the nonce, will possibly consent to follow him. THE SUPERFLUOUS MANSION (_continued_)