“With the sum thus realized, I say, you propose to make good the losses which the bank has suffered by your improvidence?”

“Not exactly.  Is there any thing else?”

“Oh, Mr Bellamy, you cannot mean what you say?  I am sure you cannot.  You are aware of our condition.  You know that there needs only a breath to destroy us in one moment for ever.  At this very time your purpose is known to the world; and, before we can prevent it, the bank may be run upon and annihilated.  What will be said of your proceedings?  How can you reconcile the answer which you have just now given to me, with your vaunted high sense of honour, or even with your own most worldly interests?”

“Have you finished, sir?” said Bellamy, in a quiet voice.

“No!” exclaimed Michael, in as angry a tone of indignation:  “no!  I have not finished.  I call upon you, Mr Bellamy, to mark my words; to mark and heed them—­for, so Heaven help me, I bid you listen to the truth.  Quiet and easy as you profess to be, I will be cozened by you no longer.  If you carry out your work, your doings shall be told to every human soul within a hundred miles of where you stand.  You shall be exhibited as you are.  If every farthing got from the sale of this estate be not given up to defray your past extravagance, you shall be branded as you deserve.  Mr Bellamy, you have deceived me for many years.  Do not deceive yourself now.”

“Have you finished, sir?” repeated Mr Bellamy.

“Yes—­with a sentence.  If you are mad—­I will be resolute.  Persist in your determination, and the bank shall stop this very night.”

“And let it stop,” said Bellamy; “by all means let it stop.  If it be a necessary, inevitable arrangement, I would not interfere with it for the world.  Act, Mr Allcraft, precisely as you think proper.  It is all I ask on my own account.  I have unfortunately private debts to a very large amount.  What is still more unfortunate, they must be paid.  I have no means of paying them except by selling my estate, and therefore it must go.  I hope you are satisfied?”

Michael threw himself into a chair, and moved about in it, groaning.  Mr Bellamy closed the door, and approached him.

“This is a very unnecessary display of feeling, Mr Allcraft,” said the imperturbable Bellamy; “very—­and can answer no good end.  The thing, as I have told you, is inevitable.”

“No—­no—­no,” cried Allcraft, imploringly; “Not so, Mr Bellamy.  Think again—­ponder well our dreadful situation.  Reflect that, before another day is gone, we may be ruined, beggared, and that this very property may be wrested from you by our angry creditors.  What will become of us?  For Heaven’s sake, my dear, good sir, do not rush blindly upon destruction.  Do not suffer us to be hooted, trampled upon, despised, cursed by every man that meets us.  You can save us if you will—­do it then—­be generous—­be just.”