threatened to sue them for the money he had
paid, nothing more was said or heard from the action. Fitz assured his
father and mother that the banker could not produce his daughter, and
that the case would not come to trial. If they were only firm and
decided with him, Mr. Checkynshaw would give up the block of stores,
and pay over the back rents. He must do so, or his reputation would be
blasted forever. He must stand before the world as a knave and a
swindler, unless he did full and ample justice to the widow (who had a
husband), and the orphan (who had a father and mother); for Mr.
Wittleworth, when he waxed eloquent, had a habit of confounding terms.

About a week after the hearing which had been cut short so suddenly,
Fitz, deeming it his duty to look after the witnesses in the great case
of Wittleworth _vs._ Checkynshaw, thought it advisable to call one
evening at No. 3 Phillimore Court. The door was locked, and the house
was dark. He repeated the call every evening for a week, but with no
better result. Then he went in the daytime. No one answered his knock,
and the door was as unyielding as a rock of granite.

Mr. Wittleworth was bewildered. Mr. Checkynshaw had done this! He had
spirited away the chief witness. Fitz went to the barber's shop, and
inquired for Andre. He had left his place ten days before. Fitz met Leo
on the street one day, a month later.

"Where do you live now?" he asked.

"I am boarding in Gridley Street."

"Where are Maggie and your father?"

"Gone to France with Mr. Checkynshaw after his daughter," replied Leo,
hurrying on his way; for, make or break, he intended to be at school in
season.

Mr. Wittleworth scratched his head and looked foolish. Mr. Checkynshaw
appeared to be flanking him.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE ELEGANT YOUNG LADY.

Leo still slept at the house in Phillimore Court, though he took his
meals in Gridley Street. It was necessary for him to go two or three
times a day to his shop to look after his stock of mice, rabbits,
pigeons, and guinea pigs, in which he still carried on a tolerably
lucrative commerce in supplying his old friends and customers. Every
moment of his time was occupied from six o'clock in the morning until
ten o'clock at night. He did everything "upon honor," and he carried
this rule into his lessons as well as his mercantile speculations. What
he learned he really learned, and never left the subject till he had
fully mastered it.

Though he had