"Yes, perhaps you are, and you'll be more puzzled yet when you know all. Why, what is all this about poor Smith? I knew him before Clayton ever got hold of him, when the chap hadn't a halfpenny to fly with, but was a most ordacious fellow at speculating and inventions, and was always up to something new. One day he had a plan for making moist sugar out of bricks—then soap out of nothing—and sweet oil out of stones. At last Clayton hears of him, and hooks him up, gets him to the chapel; first converts him, and then goes partners with him in the spekylations—let's him have as much money as he asks for, and because soap doesn't come from nothing, and sugar from bricks, and sweet oil from stones, he stops short, sews him up, drives him into the Gazette, and now wants to throw him into the world a beggar, without name and character, and with ten young 'uns hanging about his widowed arm for bread"
"Oh, it's dreadful, if it's true," said I; "but if he has robbed the minister, whatever Mr Clayton may be, he ought to be punished."
"But it isn't true, and there's the villany of it. Smith's a fool; you never see'd a bigger in your life, and though he thinks himself so clever in his inventions and diskiveries, he's as simple as a child in business. Why, he gave three thousand pounds for the machinery wot was to make soap out of nothing; and so all the money's gone. How sich a deep 'un as Clayton ever trusted him, I can't tell. He's wexed with himself now, and wants to have his spite upon his unfortunate tool."
"I can hardly believe it," said I.
"No; and do you think I would have believed it the first day as missus made me come to listen to that out and outer? and, do you think if I had known about it, they would ever have lugged me in to be a brother? You shall take a walk with me to-morrow, if you please, and if you don't believe it then of your own accord, why I sha'n't ask you."
"He has been so kind, so generous to me. He has behaved so unlike a mercenary man."
"Yes; that's just his way. That's what he calls, I suppose, sharpening his tools. He's made up his mind long ago to have out of you all he gave you, and a little more besides. Why, what did you get up for in the chapel? Didn't he say it was to bring a charge against Smith? Why, what do you know of Smith? Can't you see, with half an eye, he's been feeding of you to do his dirty work; and if you had turned out well, wouldn't it have been cheap to him at the price?"
"What is it," said I, "you propose to do to-morrow?"
"To take a walk; that's all. Don't ask questions. If you go with me, I'll satisfy your doubts."
"Surely," said I, "his congregation must have known this; and they would not have permitted him"——