“Mr. Titmarsh,” says the Commissioner as I came to the table, with a peculiar sarcastic accent on the Tit—­“Mr. Titmarsh, you were the confidant of Mr. Brough, the principal clerk of Mr. Brough, and a considerable shareholder in the Company?”

“Only a nominal one, sir,” said I.

“Of course, only nominal,” continued the Commissioner, turning to his colleague with a sneer; “and a great comfort it must be to you, sir, to think that you had a share in all the plun—­the profits of the speculation, and now can free yourself from the losses, by saying you are only a nominal shareholder.”

“The infernal villain!” shouted out a voice from the crowd.  It was that of the furious half-pay captain and late shareholder, Captain Sparr.

“Silence in the court there!” the Commissioner continued:  and all this while Mary was anxiously looking in his face, and then in mine, as pale as death; while Gus, on the contrary, was as red as vermilion.  “Mr. Titmarsh, I have had the good fortune to see a list of your debts from the Insolvent Court, and find that you are indebted to Mr. Stiltz, the great tailor, in a handsome sum; to Mr. Polonius, the celebrated jeweller, likewise; to fashionable milliners and dressmakers, moreover;—­and all this upon a salary of 200_l_. per annum.  For so young a gentleman it must be confessed you have employed your time well.”

“Has this anything to do with the question, sir?” says I.  “Am I here to give an account of my private debts, or to speak as to what I know regarding the affairs of the Company?  As for my share in it, I have a mother, sir, and many sisters—­”

“The d-d scoundrel!” shouts the Captain.

“Silence that there fellow!” shouts Gus, as bold as brass; at which the court burst out laughing, and this gave me courage to proceed.

“My mother, sir, four years since, having a legacy of 400_l_. left to her, advised with her solicitor, Mr. Smithers, how she should dispose of this sum; and as the Independent West Diddlesex was just then established, the money was placed in an annuity in that office, where I procured a clerkship.  You may suppose me a very hardened criminal, because I have ordered clothes of Mr. Von Stiltz; but you will hardly fancy that I, a lad of nineteen, knew anything of the concerns of the Company into whose service I entered as twentieth clerk, my own mother’s money paying, as it were, for my place.  Well, sir, the interest offered by the Company was so tempting, that a rich relative of mine was induced to purchase a number of shares.”

“Who induced your relative, if I may make so bold as to inquire?”

“I can’t help owning, sir,” says I, blushing, “that I wrote a letter myself.  But consider, my relative was sixty years old, and I was twenty-one.  My relative took several months to consider, and had the advice of her lawyers before she acceded to my request.  And I made it at the instigation of Mr. Brough, who dictated the letter which I wrote, and who I really thought then was as rich as Mr. Rothschild himself.”