E, MORE A
FRIEND AT A PINCH, TO THE FORMER CLASS OF HIS PROTEGES THAN HE IS TO
THE LATTER.

"Poolum per hostes mercurius celer,
Denso paventem sustulit aere."

Poole was sitting with his wife after dinner. He had made a good
speculation that day; little Johnny would be all the better for it a few
years hence, and some other man's little Johnnys all the worse--but each
for himself in this world! Poole was therefore basking in the light of
his gentle helpmate's approving smile. He had taken all extra glass of
a venerable port-wine, which had passed to his cellar from the bins of
Uncle Sam. Commercial prosperity without, conjugal felicity within, the
walls of Alhambra Villa; surely Adolphus Poole is an enviable man! Does
he look so? The ghost of what he was but a few months ago! His cheeks
have fallen in; his clothes hang on him like bags; there is a worried,
haggard look in his eyes, a nervous twitch in his lips, and every now
and then he looks at the handsome Parisian clock on the chimneypiece,
and then shifts his posture, snubs his connubial angel, who asks "what
ails him?" refills his glass, and stares on the fire, seeing strange
shapes in the mobile aspects of the coals.

To-morrow brings back this weekly spectre! To-morrow Jasper Losely,
punctual to the stroke of eleven, returns to remind him of that past
which, if revealed, will blast the future. And revealed it might be any
hour despite the bribe for silence which he must pay with his own hands,
under his own roof. Would he trust another with the secret of that
payment?--horror! Would he visit Losely at his own lodging, and pay him
there?--murder! Would he appoint him somewhere in the streets--run the
chance of being seen with such a friend? Respectability confabulating
with offal?--disgrace! And Jasper had on the last two or three visits
been peculiarly disagreeable. He had talked loud. Poole feared that his
wife might have her ear at the keyhole. Jasper had seen the parlour-maid
in the passage as he went out, and caught her round the waist. The
parlour-maid had complained to Mrs. Poole, and said she would leave if
so insulted by such an ugly blackguard. Alas! what the poor lady-killer
has come to! Mrs. Poole had grown more and more inquisitive and
troublesome on the subject of such extraordinary visits; and now, as her
husband stirred the fire-having roused her secret ire by his previous
unmanly snubbings, and Mrs. Poole being one of