"I know for certain that that horrid little man will fail me. He's got my money, and therefore all he does desire. Oh, why did I give it him! Surely I might have known that he'd undo me!"
"Oh, no, I'm sure he won't!" says poor Emblem, breaking out in sobs. "I am sure he is a good man, and an honest. I would trust that man under any circumstances."
"Do you really think so?" cries I, clinging to the weakest straw.
"Yes," wept Emblem more bitterly than ever, "I am sure Mr. Snark is a good and honest man."
Very soon the coach was at the door. Even this was a relief, for activity took some of the tension from our minds, and now the very imminence of the thing numbed their aches in some degree. I paid not the slightest heed to the way we went, or to the appearance of the streets, my senses all being deadened with their gloominess. Presently the jolting of the coach grew less, the horses reduced their pace, and the low murmur of the mob uprose. My voice shook pitifully when I said to Emblem, who would insist on accompanying me through everything:
"Are we in good time?"
"The cart is not due for nearly an hour yet," she answered.
To avoid the press, the coachman turned his horses into an unfrequented by-street, and shortly afterwards brought them to a stand before a door in a row of dismal-looking houses. I sprang out light-
