"I am determined. I shall see you at the bank about ten." VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER EIGHT. BROUGHT TO BOOK. "He--he--he--he--he! how cunning they do think themselves! What jolly owd orstridges they are!" chuckled old Gemp, as he saw Bayle leave the clerk's house, and return home to his breakfast. "Dear me! dear me! to think of James Thickens marrying that old maid! Ah well! Of course, he didn't go to her house for nothing!" He was in the street, again, about ten, when the curate came out, and, as soon as he saw him, Gemp doubled down one of the side lanes to get round to the church, and secure a good place. "They won't know in the town till it's over," he chuckled. "Sly trick! He--he--he!" The old fellow hurried round into the churchyard, getting before Bayle, as he thought, and posting himself where he could meet the curate coming in at the gate, and give him a look which should mean, "Ah! you can't get over me!" An observer would have found old Gemp's countenance a study, as he stood there, waiting for Bayle to come, and meaning afterwards to stay and see Thickens and Miss Heathery come in. But from where he stood he could see the bank, and, to his surprise, he saw James Thickens come out on the step, and directly after the curate went up to him, and they entered the place together. Gemp's countenance lengthened, and he began shaving himself directly, his eyes falling upon one of the mouldering old tombstones, upon which he involuntarily read: "Lay not up for yourselves treasure--" The rest had mouldered away. "Where thieves break through and steal," cried Gemp, whose jaw dropped. "They're a consulting--parson and Sir Gordon--parson and Thickens twiced--parson at the bank--Hallam up to his eyes in debt!" He reeled, so strong was his emotion, but he recovered himself directly. "My deeds! my money!" he gasped, "my--" He could utter no more, for a strange giddiness assailed him, and after clutching for a moment in the air, he fell down in a fit. "Yes, he's in his room, sir," said Thickens, meeting Bayle at the bank door. "I'll tell him you are here." Hallam required no telling. He had seen Bayle come up, and he appeared at the door of his room so calm and cool that his visitor felt a moment's hesitation. "Want to see me, Bayle? Business? Come in." The door closed behind the curate, and James Thickens screwed his face into wrinkles, and buttoned his coat up to the last button, as he seated himself upon his stool. "Well, what can I do for you, Bayle?" said Hallam, seating himself at his table, after placing a chair for his visitor, which was not taken. Bayle did not answer, but stood gazing down at the smooth, handsome-looking man, with his artificial smile and easy manner; and it seemed as if the events of the past few years--since he came, so young and inexperienced, to the town--were flitting by him. "A little money?--a little accommodation?" said Hallam, as his visitor did not speak.