y good sir!" said Mr. Walker. "Now is the time to make
arrangements with the creditors."

Well, these arrangements were finally made. It does not matter how many
shillings in the pound satisfied the rapacious creditors of Morgiana's
husband. But it is certain that her voice returned to her all of a
sudden upon the Captain's release. The papers of the Mulligan faction
again trumpeted her perfections; the agreement with Mr. Slang was
concluded; that with Sir George Thrum the great composer satisfactorily
arranged; and the new opera underlined in immense capitals in the
bills, and put in rehearsal with immense expenditure on the part of the
scene-painter and costumier.

Need we tell with what triumphant success the "Brigand's Bride" was
received? All the Irish sub-editors the next morning took care to have
such an account of it as made Miss Ligonier and Baroski die with envy.
All the reporters who could spare time were in the boxes to support
their friend's work. All the journeymen tailors of the establishment of
Linsey, Woolsey, and Co. had pit tickets given to them, and applauded
with all their might. All Mr. Walker's friends of the "Regent Club"
lined the side-boxes with white kid gloves; and in a little box by
themselves sat Mrs. Crump and Mr. Woolsey, a great deal too much
agitated to applaud--so agitated, that Woolsey even forgot to fling down
the bouquet he had brought for the Ravenswing.

But there was no lack of those horticultural ornaments. The theatre
servants wheeled away a wheelbarrow-full (which were flung on the stage
the next night over again); and Morgiana, blushing, panting, weeping,
was led off by Mr. Poppleton, the eminent tenor, who had crowned her
with one of the most conspicuous of the chaplets.

Here she flew to her husband, and flung her arms round his neck. He was
flirting behind the side-scenes with Mademoiselle Flicflac, who had
been dancing in the divertissement; and was probably the only man in
the theatre of those who witnessed the embrace that did not care for it.
Even Slang was affected, and said with perfect sincerity that he wished
he had been in Walker's place. The manager's fortune was made, at least
for the season. He acknowledged so much to Walker, who took a week's
salary for his wife in advance that very night.

There was, as usual, a grand supper in the green-room. The terrible Mr.
Bludyer appeared in a new coat of the well-known Woolsey cut, and the
little tailor himself and