up on his head like the coat of a wild animal enraged. He went up and
down on the hearth-rug like the same animal in a cage, shaking his fist
at some imaginary culprit.

"Once I get him, see if I let him go," he cried, his voice thick with
fast-coming words and the foam of fury. "Let the bank do as it likes;
I'll have him, I will. I'll see justice on the man as has dared to make
free with my name. It ain't nothing to you, my name; but I've kep' it
honest, and out of folk's mouths, and see if I'll stand disgrace thrown
on it now. A bill on me as never had such a thing, not when I was
struggling to get on! Dash him! damn him!" cried the old man,
transported with rage. When he had come to this unusual and terrible
length, Tozer paused dismayed. He had lost his temper before in his
life; but very seldom had he been betrayed into anything so desperate as
this. He stopped aghast, and cast a half-frightened look at Phoebe, who
stood there so quiet, subdued out of her usual force, pale and
disapproving--his own grandchild, a pastor's daughter! and he had
forgotten himself thus before her. He blushed hotly, though he was not
used to blushing, and stopped all at once. After such frightful
language, so unbecoming a deacon of Salem, so unlike a consistent member
of the connection, what could he say?

"Grandpapa," said Phoebe softly, "it is not good to be so angry; you are
made to say things you are sorry for. Will you listen to me now? Though
you don't think it, and perhaps won't believe it, I have found out
something quite by chance--"

He went up to her and clutched her by the arm. "Then what are you
a-standing there for, like a figure in stone? Can't you out with it, and
ease my mind? Out with it, I tell you! Do you want to drive me out of my
senses?"

He was so much excited that he shook her in the hot paroxysm of
returning rage. Phoebe was not frightened, but indignation made her pale.
She stood without flinching, and looked at him, till poor old Tozer let
go his hold, and dropping into a chair, covered his face with his hands.
She was too generous to take advantage of him, but went on quietly, as
if nothing had occurred.

"Grandpapa, as I tell you, I have found out something by chance that has
to do with the thing that troubles you; but I don't know quite what it
is. Tell me first, and then--is this the thing?" said Phoebe, curiously,
taking up a slip of paper from the table, a stamped piece of paper, in a
handwriting