Old Gemp did not reply for a few moments. Then, stretching out one hand, and pointing at his nurse: "Go and fetch doctor. Go at once! Quick, I say, quick!" The woman stared in alarm for a few moments, and then, catching her bonnet and shawl from a nail, she hurriedly put them on and went out. "And I've been a-lying here," panted Gemp, sliding his legs out of bed, and dressing himself quickly. "I remember now. I know. And perhaps all gone--deeds, writings--all gone. I knew there was something wrong-- I knew there was something wrong!" In five minutes he was out in the street, and had reached his friend the tailor, who stared aghast at him at first, but as soon as he heard his words blazed up as if fire had been applied to tow, and then subsided with a cunning look. "Let's keep it quiet, neighbour," he said; "and go to-morrow morning, and see what we can do with Hallam. Ah!" he cried, as a thought flashed across his mind, "he has not been at the bank these three or four days. You're right, neighbour, there is something wrong." Just at that moment, seeing the door open, another neighbour stepped in, heard the last words, and saw Gemp's wild, miserly face agitated by the horror of his loss. "What's wrong?" he cried. "Wrong? That scoundrel Hallam! that thief! that--" The new-comer started. "Don't say there's owt wrong wi' Dixons'!" he panted. "Yes, yes!" cried Gemp. "My deeds! my writings! I saw parson and Thickens busy together. They were tackling Hallam when I was took badly. Hallam's a rogue! I warned you all--a rogue! a rogue! See how he has been going on!" "Neighbour," groaned the new-comer, "they've got all I have in the world up yonder in the bank." "Oh, but it can't be true," said the tailor, with a struggle to catch at a straw of hope. "_Ay_, but it is true," said the last comer, whose face was ghastly; "and I'm a ruined man." "Nay, nay, wait a bit. P'r'aps Hallam has only been ill." "Ill? It was he, then, I'll swear, I saw to-night, walk by me in a cloak and cap. He were going off. Neighbours, are we to sit still and bear a thing like this?" "I'll hev my writings! I'll hev my writings!" cried Gemp hoarsely, as he clawed at the air with his trembling hands. "Is owt wrong?" said a fresh voice, and another of the Castor tradesmen sauntered in, pipe in mouth. In another minute he knew all they had to tell and the light was indeed now applied to the tow. Reason and common-sense were thrown to the winds, and a wild, selfish madness took their place.