On the way to the house, 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.  Observing the two officers, headed by an excited individual, going into Mr. Whedell’s house, it occurred, to his benevolent heart that that gentleman must be in trouble.  He also felt moved by a desire to hear of his old flame—­for such she now seemed at the remote distance of six weeks,—­of whose marriage with Mr. Chiffield he had read in the papers with the utmost complacency.  Therefore, Maltboy stepped up behind the officers, and was about to follow them into the house.  The officers would have kept him back; but Quigg recognized his friend of New Year’s day, and asked him in, hoping to get legal advice for nothing.

“An old friend of mine, and of Mr. Whedell’s,” said Quigg.  “Admit him, officers.  Perhaps, sir” (Quigg had forgotten his name), “you know something about Whedell’s affairs, and, as a lawyer” (with a wink), “can tell me where he has some property snugly stowed away, that I can pounce on.  If so, I would cheerfully let the smaller creditors divide the furniture among themselves.  Any information—­ahem!—­will be confidential, you know.”

“I am not a shyster!” said the indignant Matthew, alluding, by that term, to the outlaws of his profession.

Quigg was evidently surprised at this unfriendly repulse.  “I only made the suggestion for you to think on.  No offence meant.  Please walk in, sir.”

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.

CHAPTER VII.

DEUS EX MACHINA.

One of the officers planted himself against the front door, and gave general notice that no one would be allowed to remove any of the furniture.  The other officer stationed himself at the back door, to carry out a similar policy at that point.

These manoeuvres caused consternation among the small creditors, and a vivid feeling of approval among the larger ones.

“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.  To those who know the name of—­” (Aside) “By the way, your name escapes me at this moment.”

“Maltboy,” said Matthew, a little flattered with this compliment.