' he said, 'I likes to do things pleasant. I can stand outside, sir;
but you must be quick.'

Ferdinand rang for his servant. When Louis clearly understood the state
of affairs, he was anxious to throw the bailiff out of the window, but
his master prevented him. Mr. Glastonbury had gone out some two hours;
Ferdinand sent Louis with a message to his family, to say he was about
leaving town for a few days; and impressing upon him to be careful not
to let them know in Brook-street what had occurred, he completed his
rapid toilet and accompanied the sheriff's officer to the hackney-coach
that was prepared for him.

As they jogged on in silence, Ferdinand revolved in his mind how it
would be most advisable for him to act. Any application to his own
lawyer was out of the question. That had been tried before, and he
felt assured that there was not the slightest chance of that gentleman
discharging so large a sum, especially when he was aware that it was
only a portion of his client's liabilities; he thought of applying for
advice to Count Mirabel or Lord Catchimwhocan, but with what view? He
would not borrow the money of them, even if they would lend it; and as
it was, he bitterly reproached himself for having availed himself so
easily of Mr. Bond Sharpe's kind offices. At this moment, he could not
persuade himself that his conduct had been strictly honourable to that
gentleman. He had not been frank in the exposition of his situation.
The money had been advanced under a false impression, if not absolutely
borrowed under a false pretence. He cursed Catchimwhocan and his levity.
The honour of the Armines was gone, like everything else that once
belonged to them. The result of Ferdinand's reflections was, that he
was utterly done up; that no hope or chance of succour remained for
him; that his career was closed; and not daring to contemplate what
the consequences might be to his miserable parents, he made a desperate
effort to command his feelings.

Here the coach turned up a dingy street, leading out of the lower end
of Oxford-street, and stopped before a large but gloomy dwelling, which
Ferdinand's companion informed him was a spunging-house. 'I suppose you
would like to have a private room, sir; you can have every accommodation
here, sir, and feel quite at home, I assure you.'

In pursuance of this suggestion, Captain Armine was ushered into
the best drawing-room, with barred windows, and treated in the most
aristocratic