The stillness, doubly effective after the tumult just quitted, the
lulling voice of the water, the soothing aspect of the quivering
foliage, the noble building, and the cool and capacious quadrangle, the
aspect even of those who enter, and frequently enter, the precinct, and
who are generally young men, gliding in and out, earnest and full
of thought, all contribute to give to this locality something of the
classic repose of a college, instead of a place agitated with the
most urgent interests of the current hour; a place that deals with the
fortunes of kings and empires, and regulates the most important affairs
of nations, for it is the counting-house in the greatest of modern
cities of the most celebrated of modern financiers.

It was the visit of Tancred to the City, on the Wednesday morning after
he had met Lord Eskdale, that occasions me to touch on some of the
characteristics of our capital. It was the first time that Tancred had
ever been in the City proper, and it greatly interested him. His visit
was prompted by receiving, early on Wednesday morning, the following
letter:

'Dear Tancred: I saw Sidonia yesterday, and spoke to him of what you
want. He is much occupied just now, as his uncle, who attended to
affairs here, is dead, and, until he can import another uncle or cousin,
he must steer the ship, as times are critical. But he bade me say you
might call upon him in the City to-day, at two o'clock. He lives in
Sequin Court, near the Bank. You will have no difficulty in finding
it. I recommend you to go, as he is the sort of man who will really
understand what you mean, which neither your father nor myself do
exactly; and, besides, he is a person to know.

'I enclose a line which you will send in, that there may be no mistake.
I should tell you, as you are very fresh, that he is of the Hebrew race;
so don't go on too much about the Holy Sepulchre.

'Yours faithfully,

'ESKDALE.

'Spring Gardens, Wednesday morning.'

It is just where the street is most crowded, where it narrows, and
losing the name of Cheapside, takes that of the Poultry, that the last
of a series of stoppages occurred; a stoppage which, at the end of ten
minutes, lost its inert character of mere obstruction, and
developed into the livelier qualities of the row. There were oaths,
contradictions, menaces: 'No, you sha'n't; Yes, I will; No, I didn't;
Yes, you did; No, you haven't; Yes, I have;' the lashing of a whip, the
interferenc