A few mornings after he had received the money, he had a note from Mr Deep, containing the intelligence of the return from abroad of Sir Samuel Spendall, and that his attorneys were investigating his affairs.  As soon as he received this note, he went by a succession of omnibuses to the east of London, and, as it chanced, into his brother-in-law’s parish.  In this parish there was a wretched-looking suburb, inhabited principally by Jews, whose houses were, unlike the whited sepulchres metaphorically used in scripture to describe the hearts of their race, most unclean without, but magnificent within.  Into many of these dwellings Howel went in the hope of raising money, but without success.  His credit was at zero.

In a desolate, but somewhat more respectable-looking house of the same parish, he hired a couple of rooms, giving his name as Mr Mills, and paying a week’s rent in advance.

He was walking up this street, looking for a cab, when he was suddenly accosted by his brother-in-law, Rowland Prothero.

‘You are coming to see me, Howel, I am so glad,’ said Rowland, as they shook hands.

‘Not to-day; I am here on a little business, and in a great hurry.’

Howel walked on, but Rowland accompanied him.

‘You were all out when I called yesterday,’ said Rowland, ’and I particularly wanted to see you, Howel.  When will you be at home?’

‘It is impossible to say.’

’It is on your own account; it is about Sir Samuel Spendall that I wish to speak.’

Howel turned pale, and stood still for a moment, looking round him as he did so to see that no one was listening.

‘What of him?’

’Sir Philip told me that he had been heard to say he would dispute your right to his property, for you had acquired it by unfair means.’

‘The scoundrel!’ cried Howel, turning pale.  ’You have always something agreeable to communicate when we do meet.  It is well it is so seldom, Mr Rowland Prothero.’

’Oh, Howel! hear me whilst it is yet time, and clear yourself from the imputations to which I cannot shut my ears.  My eyes, alas! have been long opened, and I would have helped you, but neither Netta nor you will listen.’

‘Cab!’ shouted Howel, and a cab drew up, and Howel jumped into it, with a ‘good morning,’ leaving Rowland looking mournfully after it.

The next morning Rowland was at Howel’s house very early.  He found Netta alone, and heard from her that Howel had not been at home since the previous morning.  She had had a line from him telling her that he was going with Mr Deep to Greenwich.

Netta looked ill and anxious.  Rowland entreated her to tell him freely what made her so unhappy.  He said he did not wish to interfere between her and her husband, only to advise her for her good.

Netta burst into tears, and said that Howel was very kind now, but that she feared there was something on his mind.  She knew they were in debt, but that Howel told her all would soon be right.