making personal inquiries as to the extent of the potato-rot, not
long before announced. The morning's post had brought a letter to his
wife, with the intelligence that he should reach home that very
evening; and as the rectory was on the direct road to Elm Park, and
her husband would be sure to pull up there, Mrs Arbuthnot came with
her son to pass the afternoon there, and in some slight degree
anticipate her husband's arrival.

About three o'clock, a chief-clerk of one of the Taunton banks rode up
in a gig to the rectory, and asked to see the Rev. Mr Townley, on
pressing and important business. He was ushered into the library,
where the rector and I were at the moment rather busily engaged. The
clerk said he had been to Elm Park, but not finding either Mr
Arbuthnot or his lady there, he had thought that perhaps the Rev. Mr
Townley might be able to pronounce upon the genuineness of a cheque
for L.300, purporting to be drawn on the Taunton Bank by Mr Arbuthnot,
and which Danby the miller had obtained cash for at Bath. He further
added, that the bank had refused payment, and detained the cheque,
believing it to be a forgery.

'A forgery!' exclaimed the rector, after merely glancing at the
document. 'No question that it is, and a very clumsily executed one,
too. Besides, Mr Arbuthnot is not yet returned from Ireland.'

This was sufficient; and the messenger, with many apologies for his
intrusion, withdrew, and hastened back to Taunton. We were still
talking over this sad affair, although some hours had elapsed since
the clerk's departure--in fact, candles had been brought in, and we
were every moment expecting Mr Arbuthnot--when the sound of a horse at
a hasty gallop was heard approaching, and presently the pale and
haggard face of Danby shot by the window at which the rector and
myself were standing. The gate-bell was rung almost immediately
afterwards, and but a brief interval passed before 'Mr Danby' was
announced to be in waiting. The servant had hardly gained the passage
with leave to shew him in, when the impatient visitor rushed rudely
into the room in a state of great, and it seemed angry excitement.

'What, sir, is the meaning of this ill-mannered intrusion?' demanded
the rector sternly.

'You have pronounced the cheque I paid away at Bath to be a forgery;
and the officers are, I am told, already at my heels. Mr Arbuthnot,
unfortunately, is not at home, and I am come, therefore, to seek
shelter with you.'