her goes," said the farrier. "S'pose you've
heard the news?"

"Think I have," retorted Jonas, irritably. "It's them banks is
broke."

"I don't mean no banks," said the blacksmith. "But Susanna Verstage.
I s'pose you've heard she's gone?"

"Gone, where to?"

"That's not for me to say. She's been ailin' some time and now has
gone off, sudden like. O' course we knowed it must come, but nobody
didn't think it would ha' come so sudden--and she seemed such a
hearty woman, only a few months ago. Well, I s'pose it's ordained."

The Broom-Squire did not ask questions. He took very little
interest in the matter of the death of the hostess of the Ship.
His mind was engrossed in his own troubles.

As soon as old Clutch had his shoe fitted on, and the other shoes
looked to, Bideabout pursued his way.

His progress was not fast. Clutch was personally unaffected by the
failure of the bank, and could not be induced to accelerate his
speed. Beating only made him more stubborn, and when Bideabout
stretched his legs out to the furthest possible extent apart
that was possible, and then brought them together with a sudden
contraction so as to dig his heels into the horse's ribs, that
brought Clutch to an absolute standstill.

On reaching Godalming, the worst anticipations of Jonas were
confirmed. The bank was closed; his savings were lost. Nothing
had been withdrawn in time to secure them by giving him a hold
on the squatter settlements of his neighbors. And he himself had
incurred liabilities that might bring him into the same pit that
he had digged for his fellows.

He turned homewards in great discouragement and acridity of
heart. His fellows in the Punch-Bowl had never regarded him with
cordiality; now they would be his combined enemies. The thoughts
of his heart were gloomy. In no direction could he see light. He
now did not urge Clutch along beyond the pace at which the old
horse had made up his mind to go; it was immaterial to Jonas
whether he were on the road or at home. Nowhere would he be free
from his trouble.

He would, perhaps, have turned into the Ship for a glass of spirits
but, remembering that he had been told the hostess was dead, he
did not feel inclined to enter a house where he would be still
further depressed. He had not, however, gone far out of the
village, before he heard his name called from behind, and on
turning his head saw Joe Filmer in pursuit.

The ostler came up to him, panting and said--