He shuddered as he passed Dixons', and pictured to himself what would happen if the doors were closed and an excited crowd of depositors were hungering for their money. "It must be stopped at any cost," he muttered; and once more the sweet sad face of Millicent seemed to be looking into his for help. "I ought to have suspected him before," he continued; "but how could I, when even Sir Gordon could see no wrong? Ha! Yes. Perhaps Thickens is mistaken after all. It may be, as he said, only suspicion." His heart seemed like lead, though, the next moment, as he neared the clerk's house. Thickens was too just, too careful a man to have been wrong. He stopped, and rapped with his knuckles at the door directly after, to find it opened by Thickens himself, and, as the clerk drew back, he passed in, ignorant of the fact that Gemp was shaving himself with his rough forefinger a hundred yards away, and saying to himself, "Which is it? Thickens going to marry skinny Heathery on the sly; or something wrong? I shan't be long before I know." The brightness of the morning seemed to be shut out as the clerk closed the door, and followed his visitor into the sitting-room. "Well, Mr Bayle," he said, for the curate was silent. "You've come to say something particular." "Yes," said Bayle firmly. "Thickens, this exposure would be too horrible. It must not take place." "Ah," said Thickens in his quiet, grave way, "you're the Hallams' friend." "I hope I am the friend of every one in this town." "And you advise me to keep this quiet and let your friends be robbed?" "Silence, man! How dare you speak to me like that?" cried Bayle furiously, and he took a step in advance. "No, no," he said, checking himself, and holding out his hand; "we must be calm and sensible over this, Thickens. There must be no temper. Now listen. You remember what I said you must do last night." "Yes; and _I'm_ going directly after breakfast to Sir Gordon." "No; I retract my words. You must not go." "And the people who have been robbed?" "Wait a few moments, Thickens," cried Bayle, flushing, as he saw that his hand was not taken. "Hear me out. You--yes, surely, you have some respect for Mrs Hallam--some love for her sweet child." Thickens nodded. "Think, then, man, of the horrible disgrace--the ruin that would follow your disclosures." "Yes; it is very horrid, sir; but I must do my duty. You owned to it last night." "Yes, man, yes; but surely there are times when we may try and avert some of the horrors that would fall upon the heads of the innocent and true." "That don't sound like what a parson ought to say," said Thickens dryly. Bayle flushed angrily again, but he kept down his wrath. "James Thickens," he said coldly, "you mistake me." "No," said Thickens, "you spoke out like a man last night. This morning, sir, you speak like Robert Hallam's friend."