se；　for　one　who　liked　〃big　pots；〃　a　certain　glamour　about　the　personality　of　old　Heythorp；　still　a　bit　of　a　swell　in　shipping　circles；　and　a　bit　of　an　aristocrat　in　Liverpool。　　But　during　the　last　year　Charles　Ventnor　had　realised　that　the　old　chap's　star　had　definitely　setwhen　that　happens；　of　course；　there　is　no　more　glamour；　and　the　time　has　come　to　get　your　money。　　Weakness　in　oneself　and　others　is　despicable！　Besides；　he　had　food　for　thought；　and　descending　the　stairs　he　chewed　it：　He　smelt　a　ratcreatures　for　which　both　by　nature　and　profession　he　had　a　nose。　　Through　Bob　Pillin；　on　whom　he　sometimes　dwelt　in　connection　with　his　younger　daughter；　he　knew　that　old　Pillin　and　old　Heythorp　had　been　friends　for　thirty　years　and　more。　　That；　to　an　astute　mind；　suggested　something　behind　this　sale。　　The　thought　had　already　occurred　to　him　when　he　read　his　copy　of　the　report。　　A　commission　would　be　a　breach　of　trust；　of　course；　but　there　were　ways　of　doing　things；　the　old　chap　was　devilish　hard　pressed；　and　human　nature　was　human　nature！　　His　lawyerish　mind　habitually　put　two　and　two　together。　　The　old　fellow　had　deliberately　appointed　to　meet　his　creditors　again　just　after　the　general　meeting　which　would　decide　the　purchasehad　said　he　might　do　something　for　them　then。　　Had　that　no　significance？
  In　these　circumstances　Charles　Ventnor　had　come　to　the　meeting　with　eyes　wide　open　and　mouth　tight　closed。　　And　he　had　watched。　　It　was　certainly　remarkable　that　such　an　old　and　feeble　man；　with　no　neck　at　all；　who　looked　indeed　as　if　he　might　go　off　with　apoplexy　any　moment；　should　actually　say　that　he　〃stood　or　fell〃　by　this　purchase；　knowing　that　if　he　fell　he　would　be　a　beggar。　　Why　should　the　old　chap　be　so　keen　on　getting　it　through？　　It　would　do　him　personally　no　good；　unlessExactly！　　He　had　left　the　meeting；　therefore；　secretly　confident　that　old　Heythorp　had　got　something　out　of　this　transaction　which　would　enable　him　to　make　a　substantial　proposal　to　his　creditors。　　So　that　when　the　old　man　had　declared　that　he　was　going　to　make　none；　something　had　turned　sour　in　his　heart；　and　he　had　said　to　himself：　〃All　right；　you　old　rascal！　　You　don't　know　C。　V。〃　　The　cavalier　manner　of　that　beggarly　old　rip；　the　defiant　look　of　his　deep　little　eyes；　had　put　a　polish　on　the　rancour　of　one　who　prided　himself　on　letting　no　man　get　the　better　of　him。　　All　that　evening；　seated　on　one　side　of　the　fire；　while　Mrs。　Ventnor　sat　on　the　other；　and　the　younger　daughter　played　Gounod's　Serenade　on　the　violinhe　cogitated。　　And　now　and　again　he　smiled；　but　not　too　much。　　He　did　not　see　his　way　as　yet；　but　had　little　doubt　that　before　long　he　would。　　It　would　not　be　hard　to　knock　that　chipped　old　idol　off　his　perch。　　There　was　already　a　healthy　feeling　among　the　shareholders　that　he　was　past　work　and　should　be　scrapped。　　The　old　chap　should　find　that　Charles　V。　was　not　to　be　defied；　that　when　he　got　his　teeth　into　a　thing；　he　did　not　let　it　go。　　By　hook　or　crook　he　would　have　the　old　man　off　his　Boards；　or　his　debt　out　of　him　as　the　price　of　leaving　him　alone。　　His　life　or　his　moneyand　the　old　fellow　should　determine　which。　　With　the　memory　of　that　defiance　fresh　within　him；　he　almost　hoped　it　might　come　to　be　the　first；　and　turning　to　Mrs。　Ventnor；　he　said　abruptly：
  〃Have　a　little　dinner　Friday　week；　and　ask　young　Pillin　and　the　curate。〃　　He　specified　the　curate；　a　tee…totaller；　because　he　had　two　daughters；　and　males　and　females　must　be　paired；　but　he　intended　to　pack　him　off　after　dinner　to　the　drawing…room　to　discuss　parish　matters　while　he　and　Bob　Pillin　sat　over　their　wine。　　What　he　expected　to　get　out　of　the　young　man　he　did　not　as　yet　know。
  On　the　day　of　the　dinner；　before　departing　for　the　office；　he　had　gone　to　his　cellar。　　Would　three　bottles　of　Perrier　Jouet　do　the　trick；　or　must　he　add　one　of　the　old　Madeira？　　He　decided　to　be　on　the　safe　side。　　A　bottle　or　so　of　champagne　went　very　little　way　with　him　personally；　and　young　Pillin　might　be　another。
  The　Madeira　having　done　its　work　by　turning　the　conversation　into　such　an　admirable　channel；　he　had　cut　it　short　for　fear　young　Pillin　might　drink　the　lot　or　get　wind　of　the　rat。　　And　when　his　guests　were　gone；　and　his　family　had　retired；　he　stood　staring　into　the　fire；　putting　together　the　pieces　of　the　puzzle。　　Five　or　six　thousand　poundssix　would　be　ten　per　cent。　on　sixty！　　Exactly！　　Scrivens　young　Pillin　had　said！　　But　Crow　&　Donkin；　not　Scriven　&　Coles；　were　old　Heythorp's　solicitors。　　What　could　that　mean；　save　that　the　old　man　wanted　to　cover　the　tracks　of　a　secret　commission；　and　had　handled　the　matter　through　solicitors　who　did　not　know　the　state　of　his　affairs！　　But　why　Pillin's　solicitors？　　With　this　sale　just　going　through；　it　must　look　deuced　fishy　to　them　too。　　Was　it　all　a　mare's　nest；　after　all？　　In　such　circumstances　he　himself　would　have　taken　the　matter　to　a　London　firm　who　knew　nothing　of　anybody。　　Puzzled；　therefore；　and　rather　disheartened；　feeling　too　that　touch　of　liver　which　was　wont　to　follow　his　old　Madeira；　he　went　up　to　bed　and　woke　his　wife　to　ask　her　why　the　dickens　they　couldn't　always　have　soup　like　that！
  Next　day　he　continued　to　brood　over　his　puzzle；　and　no　fresh　light　came；　but　having　a　matter　on　which　his　firm　and　Scrivens'　were　in　touch；　he　decided　to　go　over　in　person；　and　see　if　he　could　surprise　something　out　of　them。　　Feeling；　from　experience；　that　any　really　delicate　matter　would　only　be　entrusted　to　the　most　responsible　member　of　the　firm；　he　had　asked　to　see　Scriven　himself；　and　just　as　he　had　taken　his　hat　to　go；　he　said　casually：
  〃By　the　way；　you　do　some　business　for　old　Mr。　Heythorp；　don't　you？〃
  Scriven；　raising　his　eyebrows　a　little；　murmured：　〃Erno；〃　in　exactly　the　tone　Mr。　Ventnor　himself　used　when　he　wished　to　imply　that　though　he　didn't　as　a　fact　do　business；　he　probably　soon　would。　He　knew　therefore　that　the　answer　was　a　true　one。　　And　non…plussed；　he　hazarded：
  〃Oh！　　I　thought　you　did；　in　regard　to　a　Mrs。　Larne。〃
  This　time　he　had　certainly　drawn　blood　of　sorts；　for　down　came　Scriven's　eyebrows；　and　he　said：
  〃Mrs。　Larnewe　know　a　Mrs。　Larne；　but　not　in　that　connection。　　Why？〃
  〃Oh！　　Young　Pillin　told　me〃
  〃Young　Pillin？　　Why；　it's　his…！〃　　A　little　pause；　and　then：　〃Old　Mr。　Heythorp's　solicitors　are　Crow　&　Donkin；　I　believe。〃
  Mr。　Ventnor　held　out　his　hand。　　〃Yes；　yes；〃　he　said；　〃goodbye。　　Glad　to　have　got　that　matter　settled　up；〃　and　out　he　went；　and　down　the　street；　important；　smiling。　　By　George！　　He　had　got　it！　　〃It's　his　father〃Scriven　had　been　going　to　say。　　What　a　plant！　　Exactly！　　Oh！　neat！　　Old　Pillin　had　made　the　settlement　direct；　and　the　solicitors　were　in　the　dark；　that　disposed　of　his　difficulty　about　them。　　No　money　had　passed　between　old　Pillin　and　old　Heythorp　not　a　penny。　Oh！　　neat！　　But　not　neat　enough　for　Charles　Ventnor；　who　had　that　nose　for　rats。　　Then　his　smile　died；　and　with　a　little　chill　he　perceived　that　it　was　all　based　on　suppositionnot　quite　good　enough　to　go　on！　　What　then？　　Somehow　he　must　see　this　Mrs。　Larne；　or　betterold　Pillin　himself。　　The　point　to　ascertain　was　whether　she　had　any　connection　of　her　own　with　Pillin。　　Clearly　young　Pillin　didn't　know　of　it；　for；　according　to　him；　old　Heythorp　had　made　the　settlement。　　By　Jove！　　That　old　rascal　was　deepall　the　more　satisfaction　in　proving　that　he　was　not　as　deep　as　C。　V。　　To　unmask　the　old　cheat　was　already　beginning　to　seem　in　the　nature　of　a　public　service。　　But　on　what　pretext　could　he　visit　Pillin？　　A　subscription　to　the　Windeatt　almshouses！　　That　would　make　him　talk　in　self…defence　and　he　would　take　care　not　to　press　the　request　to　the　actual　point　of　getting　a　subscription。　　He　caused　himself　to　be　driven　to　the　Pillin　residence　in　Sefton　Park。　　Ushered　into　a　room　on　the　ground　floor；　heated　in　American　fashion；　Mr。　Ventnor　unbuttoned　his　coat。　A　man　of　sanguine　constitution；　he　found　this　hot…house　atmosphere　a　little　trying。　　And　having　sympathetically　obtained　Joe　Pillin's　reluctant　refusalQuite　so！　　One　could　not　indefinitely　extend　one's　subscriptions　even　for　the　best　of　causes！he　said　gently：
  〃By　the　way；　you　know　Mrs。　Larne；　don't　you？〃
  The　effect　of　that　simple　shot　surpassed　his　highest　hopes。　　Joe　Pillin's　face；　never　highly　coloured；　turned　a　sort　of　grey；　he　opened　his　thin　lips；　shut　them　quickly；　as　birds　do；　and　something　seemed　to　pass　with　difficulty　down　his　scraggy　throat。　　The　hollows；　which　nerve　exhaustion　delves　in　the　cheeks　of　men　whose　cheekbones　are　not　high；　increased　alarmingly。　　For　a　moment　he　looked　deathly；　then；　moistening　his　lips；　he　said：
  〃LarneLarne？　　No；　I　don't　seem…〃
  Mr。　Ventnor；　who　had　taken　care　to　be　drawing　on　his　gloves；　murmured：
  〃Oh！　　I　thoughtyour　son　knows　her；　a　relation　of　old　Heythorp's；〃　and　he　looked　up。
  Joe　Pillin　had　his　handkerchief　to　his　mouth；　he　coughed　feebly；　then　with　more　and　more　vigour：
  〃I'm　in　very　poor　health；〃　he　said；　at　last。　　〃I'm　getting　abroad　at　once。　　This　cold's　killing　me。　　What　name　did　you　say？〃　　And　he　remained　with　his　handkerchief　against　his　teeth。
  Mr。　Ventnor　repeated：
  〃Larne。　　Writes　stories。〃
  Joe　Pillin　muttered　into　his　handkerchief
  〃Ali！　　H'm！　　NoIno！　　My　son　knows　all　sorts　of　people。　　I　shall　have　to　try　Me