A "sceptical for thieves. 379 



of mine would persist in calling a pain in his chest a pain in 

 his box ; but this pain in his box was cured by marrying the 

 lady who caused it." 



"Well, Miss Markham, I have always heard matrimony 

 was a specific cure for that tormenting malad}^ called love." 



" It may allay the unpleasant irritation attending it, with- 

 out working a radical cure, Lord Henry, except in such cases as 

 my friend, the Count's, whose disorder was of a most acute and 

 highly inflammatory kind ; but in a chronic disease of long 

 standing, the patient seldom expects or hopes for a remedy; 

 and now I think it is time for me to bid adieu to these fairy 

 scenes and you, as we leave town to-morrow for Barton Court, 

 where, probably, I may have the pleasure of seeing you, and 

 showing you the way to clear a five-barred gate after the 

 Bampton foxhounds." 



"Nothing would delight me more than to follow such a 

 leader," replied Lord Henry ; " and if alive, I shall certainly 

 avail myself of Beauchamp's kind invitation." 



We must now look after our friend Mangle, who (having 

 hired a lodging for Monkton in the Brompton Road, where he 

 called twice daily in his way to and from his office, to watch 

 his client, or rather tool, as well as his case), was struck dumb 

 with astonishment the next morning by the information given 

 him when calling, by the landlady, that his charge had been 

 carried off the previous evening by a Bow Street officer. 



" A Bow Street officer, ma'am % " exclaimed Mangle, in 

 bewilderment. 



" Yes, sir, I did say a Bow Street officer ; on a charge of 

 forgery, sir ; and ain't you ashamed of yourself, Mr. Mangle, to 

 put a dirty fellow of that sort into a respectable widowed 

 woman's house % It'll be my ruin, sir, palming a low vagabond 

 like that off as a gentleman of fortune. It's a nasty blackguard 

 trick ; and although you may be a lawyer, I'll have the law of 

 you for making my house a scejtiical for thieves and pick- 

 pockets." 



"Hold your clatter, you old beldame," cried Mangle, "it's 

 false, I say — it's all a lie." 



" It's all true, I say, you rapscallion of a man. I heard the 

 fellow falling on his knees — cry for mercy — and confess all 

 about it j he said that lawyer Mangle put him up to forging 

 the deed, and my lord took it down on paper, and the man you 

 call Monkton signed his name, and swore it was true every 

 word, that was written." 



