ction, I concluded that as I had
twice as much credit in other quarters as it was prudent to use, I
would ask a renewal of the note, which would be a great relief. It
was better, certainly, than to suffer a protest. At the thought of a
protest I shuddered, and started to see the parties to whom the note
was due, feeling much as I suppose a culprit feels when about being
arraigned for trial. It was twenty minutes past two when I called at
their store.

"I am sorry," I said to one of the firm, whom I first met, speaking
in a husky, agitated voice, "to inform you that I shall not be able
to lift my note that falls due to-day."

His brows fell instantly.

"I had made every arrangement to meet it," I continued, "and was to
receive the money at one o'clock to-day, but was unexpectedly
disappointed. I have tried since to raise the amount, but find it
too late in the day."

The man's brows fell still lower, while his eyes remained steadily
fixed upon my face.

"I shall have to ask you to extend it for me."

"I don't think we can do that," he coldly replied.

"Will you consult your partners?" I said; "time presses."

The man bowed stiffly, his aspect about as pleasing as if I had
robbed him, and turned away. I was standing near the door of the
counting-room, inside of which were his two partners, with whom he
had retired to confer.

"Jones can't pay his note," I heard him say, in tones most
unpleasant to my ear.

"What!" was replied; "Jones?"

"Yes, Jones."

"What does he want?"

"A renewal."

"Nonsense! He can pay, if he finds he must."

"It is nearly half-past two," one of them remarked.

"No matter. It's of too much importance to him to keep his good
name; he'll find somebody to help him. Threaten him with a protest;
shake that over his head, and the money'll be raised."

With a Siberian aspect, the man returned to me.

"Can't do any thing for you," he said. "Sorry for it."

"My note must lie over, then," I replied.

"It will be protested."

The very sound of the word went through me like an arrow. I felt the
perspiration starting from every pore; but I was indignant at the
same time, and answered, as firmly as I could speak--"Very well; let
it be."

"As you like," he said, in the same cold tone, and with the same
dark aspect, partly turning away as he spoke.

"But, my dear sir"--

"It is useless to waste words," he remarked, interrupting me. "You
have our ultimatum."

As I left the store,