"Mr Langridge," he said, "what is the meaning of this? How do I come to be liberated?"
"By the simplest and most effectual of all processes, Mr Reid," replied the worthy writer, smiling; "by the payment of the debt."
"But I have not paid the debt, Mr Langridge. I could not pay the debt."
"No; but somebody else might. The short and the long of it is, Mr Reid, that a friend has come forward, and settled the claim on which diligence was raised against you. The bill, with interest and all expenses, is paid, and you are again a free man."
Again overwhelmed by his feelings, which were a thousand times more eloquently expressed by a flood of silent tears than they could have been by the most carefully rounded periods, it was some time before the young man could pursue the conversation, or ask for the further information which he yet intensely longed to possess. On recovering from the burst of emotion which had, for the moment, deprived him of the power of utterance—
"And who, pray, Mr Langridge, is this friend—this friend indeed?
"Why, I do not know exactly whether I am at liberty to tell you, Mr Reid," replied Mr Langridge. "The friend you allude to declined transacting this matter personally with you, which seems to imply that he did not care that you should know who he was; yet, as he certainly did not expressly forbid me to disclose him, and as I think it but right that you should know to whom you are indebted, I will venture to tell you. Had you some conversation, at an early hour this morning, with an old stone-breaker, on the highway side, about three or four miles from town?"
"I had. The old man that was sitting here when I came in."
"The same. Well, what would you think if he should have been the friend in question? Would you expect from his manner, that he would do such a thing? or, from his appearance and occupation, that he could?"
"Certainly not—certainly not. The old man—the poor old man, to whom I offered half-a-crown—who works for ninepence a-day—who never saw me in his life before this morning—who knows nothing of me! Impossible, Mr Langridge—impossible; he cannot be the man. You do not say that he is?"