“Now, Mr. Fopperton,” exclaimed Mr. Cadgerbreef, seeing that the Commissioners were all attention just at this moment, and taking a skilful advantage of the circumstance, “under your numerous insolvencies and frequent bankruptcies—don’t interrupt me, sir—you have paid two-pence three farthings in the pound, on aggregate liabilities amounting to thirty thousand pounds. The Court will be pleased to notice these facts. And yet, Mr. Fopperton, we find you discounting a thousand pounds’ worth of bills for my client, the Insolvent. The Court will again please to take a note of this fact.”
Of course the Commissioners could not help making—or at least affecting to make the memoranda suggested by the learned counsel: so the sleepy one scrawled a zig-zag line across his note-book, and the other hit off a rapid sketch of Captain O’Blunderbuss’s face, Mr. Commissioner Sneesby being very proficient in that style of drawing. The two functionaries then laid down their pens, and looked as solemn and serious as if they had actually and positively taken the notes in the most business-like manner possible.
“Now, sir,” continued Mr. Cadgerbreef, once more turning to the opposing creditor, “will you tell the Court how much hard cash you gave the Insolvent for his acceptance of one thousand pounds?”
“Really, sir, the occurrence is so long ago—I—I——”
“Will you swear, man, that you gave him two hundred pounds?” demanded the learned counsel, impatiently.
“Yes, sir—I will,” was the instantaneous answer.
“Will you swear that you gave him four hundred?”—and Mr. Cadgerbreef dipped his pen into the ink with an air of awful determination.
“Why—no—I can’t exactly——” stammered the tailor, every instant becoming more and more nervous.
“Will you swear that you gave him three hundred and twenty pounds in hard cash for that bill?” demanded Mr. Cadgerbreef.
“That was just what I did pay in money,” replied Mr. Fopperton, in a hesitating manner.