e, fellow," said I, "is a cheque on Child's for your paltry sum."

"It may be a sheck on Shild's," says Mr. Nabb; "but I should be a baby
to let you out on such a paper as dat."

"Well," said I, "Child's is but a step from this: you may go and get the
cash,--just give me an acknowledgment."

Nabb drew out the acknowledgment with great punctuality, and set off
for the bankers', whilst I prepared myself for departure from this
abominable prison.

He smiled as he came in. "Well," said I, "you have touched your money;
and now, I must tell you, that you are the most infernal rogue and
extortioner I ever met with."

"Oh, no, Mishter Shtubbsh," says he, grinning still. "Dere is som
greater roag dan me,--mosh greater."

"Fellow," said I, "don't stand grinning before a gentleman; but give me
my hat and cloak, and let me leave your filthy den."

"Shtop, Shtubbsh," says he, not even Mistering me this time. "Here ish a
letter, vich you had better read."

I opened the letter; something fell to the ground:--it was my cheque.

The letter ran thus: "Messrs. Child and Co. present their compliments to
Captain Stubbs, and regret that they have been obliged to refuse payment
of the enclosed, having been served this day with an attachment by
Messrs. Solomonson and Co., which compels them to retain Captain Stubbs'
balance of 2,010L. 11s. 6d. until the decision of the suit of Solomonson
v. Stubbs.

"FLEET STREET."

"You see," says Mr. Nabb, as I read this dreadful letter--"you see,
Shtubbsh, dere vas two debts,--a little von and a big von. So dey
arrested you for de little von, and attashed your money for de big von."

Don't laugh at me for telling this story. If you knew what tears are
blotting over the paper as I write it--if you knew that for weeks after
I was more like a madman than a sane man,--a madman in the Fleet Prison,
where I went instead of to the desert island! What had I done to deserve
it? Hadn't I always kept an eye to the main chance? Hadn't I lived
economically, and not like other young men? Had I ever been known to
squander or give away a single penny? No! I can lay my hand on my heart,
and, thank heaven, say, No! Why, why was I punished so?

Let me conclude this miserable history. Seven months--my wife saw me
once or twice, and then dropped me altogether--I remained in that fatal
place. I wrote to my dear mamma, begging her to sell her furniture, but
got no answer. All my old friends turned their backs upon