“Now don’t you be angry, sir.  I had a good reason for intruding on you this once.  Jackson!” Jackson stepped forward and touched William Fielding on the shoulder.

“You must come along with me,” said he.

“What for?” inquired Fielding.

“You are arrested on this judgment,” explained Crawley, letting the document peep a moment from his waistcoat pocket.  William threw himself into an attitude of defense.  His first impulse was to knock the officer down and run into another county, but the next moment he saw the folly and injustice of this and another sentiment overpowered the honest simple fellow—­shame.  He covered his face with both his hands and groaned aloud with the sense of humiliation.

“Oh! my poor William!” cried Susan.  “Oh!  Mr. Meadows, can nothing be done?”

“Why, Miss Merton,” said Meadows, looking down, “you can’t expect me to do anything for him.  If it was his brother now, Lawyer Crawley shouldn’t ever take him out of my house.”

Susan flushed all over.  “That I am sure you would, Mr. Meadows,” cried she (for feeling obscured grammar).  “Now see, dear William, how your temper and unworthy suspicions alienate our friends; but father shan’t let you lie in prison.  Mr. Meadows, will you lend me a sheet of paper?”

She sat down, pen in hand, in generous excitement.  While she wrote Mr. Meadows addressed Crawley.  “And now a word with you, Mr. Crawley.  You and I meet on business now and then, but we are not on visiting terms that I know of.  How come you to walk into my house with a constable at your back?”

“Well, sir, I did it for the best,” said Crawley apologetically.  “Our man came in here, and the street door was open, and I said, ’He is a friend of Mr. Meadows, perhaps it would be more delicate to all parties to take him indoors than in the open street.’”

“Oh, yes!” cried William, “it is bitter enough as it is, but that would have been worse—­thank you for arresting me here—­and now take me away and let me hide from all the world.”

“Fools!” said a firm voice behind the screen.

“Fools!” At this word and a new voice Susan started up from the table and William turned his face from the wall.  Meadows did more.  “Another!” cried he in utter amazement; “why my house is an inn.  Ah!”

While speaking he had run round the screen and come plump upon Isaac Levi seated in a chair and looking up in his face with stern composure.  His exclamation brought the others round after him and a group of excited faces encircled this old man seated sternly composed.

“Fools!” repeated he, “these tricks were stale before England was a nation.  Which of you two has the judgment?”

“I, sir,” said Crawley, at a look from Meadows.

“The amount?”

“A hundred and six thirteen four.”

“Here is the money.  Give me the document.”

“Here, sir.”  Levi read it.  “This action was taken on a bill of exchange.  I must have that too.”