ld
that nobody would think it worth his while to pay Captain Hotspur's
debts. At present there was a proposition from an old gentleman,
possessed of enormous wealth, to "pay all Captain Hotspur's debts."
Three months ago, Mr. Hart would willingly have sold every scrap
of the Captain's paper in his possession for the half of the
sum inscribed on it. The whole sum was now promised, and would
undoubtedly be paid if the Captain could be worked upon to do as
Mr. Boltby desired. But if the gentlemen employed on this delicate
business were to blow upon the Captain too severely, Mr. Boltby would
have no such absolute necessity to purchase the Captain. The Captain
would sink to zero, and not need purchasing. Mr. Walker must have
back his money,--or so much of it as Mr. Hart might permit him
to take. That probably might be managed; and the Captain must be
thoroughly frightened, and must be made to write the letter which Mr.
Boltby desired. Mr. Hart understood his work very well;--so, it is
hoped, does the reader.

Captain Stubber was in these days a thorn in our hero's side; but Mr.
Hart was a scourge of scorpions. Mr. Hart never ceased to talk of Mr.
Walker, and of the determination of Walker and Bullbean to go before
a magistrate if restitution were not made. Cousin George of course
denied the foul play, but admitted that he would repay the money if
he had it. There should be no difficulty about the money, Mr. Hart
assured him, if he would only write that letter to Mr. Boltby. In
fact, if he would write that letter to Mr. Boltby, he should be made
"shquare all round." So Mr. Hart was pleased to express himself. But
if this were not done, and done at once, Mr. Hart swore by his God
that Captain "'Oshspur" should be sold up, root and branch, without
another day's mercy. The choice was between five hundred pounds a
year in any of the capitals of Europe, and that without a debt,--or
penal servitude. That was the pleasant form in which Mr. Hart put the
matter to his young friend.

Cousin George drank a good deal of curacoa, and doubted between Lady
Altringham and Mr. Hart. He knew that he had not told everything to
the Countess. Excellent as was her scheme, perfect as was her wisdom,
her advice was so far more dangerous than the Jew's, that it was
given somewhat in the dark. The Jew knew pretty well everything. The
Jew was interested, of course, and therefore his advice must also be
regarded with suspicion. At last, when Mr. Hart