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The papers and the police, after groping for weeks in search of the answer, turned it over to the solution of Time, with the comforting assurance that MURDER WILL OUT. Mr. Augustus Whedell was a gentleman who had been living handsomely for three years on his wits. There was nothing remarkable in Mr. Whedell's personal appearance, with the exception of his wig.
The door being opened, several of the small creditors were discovered, grouped together, with property in their hands. They had made several ineffectual attempts to break the lock, or pry back the bolt. The larger creditors were forcibly remonstrating against this disposition of Mr. Whedell's effects; and a serious row would probably have ensued, but for the timely arrival of the police.
Whedell's house, on New Year's day, was the starting point in their course of true love. Such an aversion, subsequently smoothed away, is often the most promising beginning of a courtship. Mrs. Frump had frequently met Matthew on the street, and been gratified with his deferential bow. His bulk, to which, as a rotund lady, she had taken an antipathy, seemed to dwindle down as it was looked at.
"Most readily, my dear sir," replied the amiable Matthew. "Have you pen and paper convenient?" "In this room, Mr. Maltboy," said his host, ushering him into a little apartment at the end of the entry, which contained a few books, and was passed off upon a credulous world as Mr. Whedell's library.
Quigg had apprised Maltboy of Mr. Whedell's financial weakness; but the infatuation of the ardent young bachelor had led him to disregard that warning. He was fully prepared to say, "Yes, with pleasure," and he did say so. "Thank you," said the gratified parent. "Only want it a few days." Mr.
Whedell's residence had not yet come to claim possession. Creditors are early birds; but the hour sis and a half A.M. was even too early for them; and only one Mr. Rickarts, the shoemaker had called. He had been disposed of in the library, by the servant, under the pretence that Mr. Whedell was not yet up. But Mr.
Quigg succeeded in persuading the policemen that it was necessary for the peace of society that they should turn all the other creditors out of the house, and leave Mr. Whedell's effects to be divided among them according to the regular legal process. As the officers marched up the steps of the house, it fell out that Matthew Maltboy came sauntering by.
This intelligence was a thorn in the bed of Mr. Whedell's comfort. Had he not arranged to settle with his creditors on the 1st of May? Was not the owner of the house occupied and used by him to resume possession on that eventful day? And was not everything even his daily food dependent on the return of his children, as he fondly called them, with their pockets full of money?
"I am happy to announce," said Quigg, "that the counsel of Mr. Whedell one of the most distinguished ornaments of the bar has now arrived, and will take charge of his client's affairs. "Maltboy," said Matthew, a little flattered with this compliment. "I repeat, that, to those who know the name of Maltboy, no assurance need be given that Mr. Whedell's affairs will be honorably adjusted."
"Anyhow, I examined his pocket, last night, when he was asleep in the cars, and found only five dollars there." Mr. Whedell's jaw dropped. "Oh, no! it can't be," said he, at length. "Mr. Chiffield must be a rich man. You remember his fine horses at Saratoga and Newport. You remember how much his society was courted by mammas with disposable daughters. They never patronize poor young men.
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