"Stand back!" he said, "and act like Christian men, and not like wild beasts. Dixons' Bank is sound. Look here!" "It's failed! it's failed!" cried a dozen voices. "It has not failed," shouted Bayle. "Look here: I have been to London." "Yes, we know." "To fetch twenty-one thousand pounds--my own property!" There was dead silence here. "Look! that is the money, all in new Bank of England notes." He tore them out of the large pocket-book. "To show you my confidence in Dixons' Bank and in Sir Gordon Bourne's word, I deposit this sum with them, and open an account. Mr Thickens, have the goodness to enter this to my credit; I'll take a chequebook when you are at liberty." He passed the sheaf of rustling, fluttering, new, crisp notes to the cashier, and then, taking Sir Gordon's offered hand, leaped down inside the counter of the bank. "There, Sir Gordon," he said, with a smile, "I hope the plague is stayed." "Christie Bayle," whispered Sir Gordon huskily, "Heaven bless you! I shall never forget this day!" Half-an-hour later the bank business was going on as usual, but the business of the past night and morning was more talked of than before. VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER SIXTEEN. IN MISERY'S DEPTHS. One of many visits to the gloomy, stone-built, county gaol where Hallam was waiting his trial--for all applications for the granting of bail had been set aside--Millicent had insisted upon going alone, but without avail. "No, Miss Milly, you may insist as long as you like; but until I'm berried, I'm going to keep by you in trouble, and I shall go with you." "But Thibs, my dear, dear old Thibs," cried Millicent, flinging her arms about her neck, "don't you see that you will be helping me by staying with Julie?" "No, my dear, I don't; and, God bless her! she'll be as happy as can be with her grandpa killing slugs, as I wish all wicked people were the same, and could be killed out of the way." "But, Thibs, I order you to stay!" "And you may order, my dear," said Thisbe stubbornly. "You might order, and you might cut off my legs, and then I'd come crawling like the serpent in the Scripters--only I hope it would be to do good." "Oh, you make me angry with you, Thisbe. Haven't I told you that Miss Heathery has been pressing to come this morning, and I refused her?" "Why, of course you did, my dear," replied Thisbe contemptuously. "Nice one she'd be to go with you, and strengthen and comfort you! Send her to your pa's greenhouse to turn herself into a pot, and water the plants with warm water, and crying all over, and perhaps she'd do some good; but to go over to Lindum! The idea! Poor little weak thing!" "But, Thisbe, can you not see that this is a visit that I ought to pay alone?" "No, miss." "But it is: for my husband's sake."