Page 816 - vanity-fair

those stationed at the gate of Gaunt House—and the aide-
de-camp ran round and placed himself in front of Colonel
Crawley.
That gallant officer at once knew what had befallen him.
He was in the hands of the bailiffs. He started back, falling
against the man who had first touched him.
‘We’re three on us—it’s no use bolting,’ the man behind
said.
‘It’s you, Moss, is it?’ said the Colonel, who appeared to
know his interlocutor. ‘How much is it?’
‘Only a small thing,’ whispered Mr. Moss, of Cursitor
Street, Chancery Lane, and assistant officer to the Sheriff
of Middlesex— ‘One hundred and sixty-six, six and eight-
pence, at the suit of Mr. Nathan.’
‘Lend me a hundred, Wenham, for God’s sake,’ poor
Rawdon said—‘I’ve got seventy at home.’
‘I’ve not got ten pounds in the world,’ said poor Mr. Wen-
ham—‘Good night, my dear fellow.’
‘Good night,’ said Rawdon ruefully. And Wenham
walked away—and Rawdon Crawley finished his cigar as
the cab drove under Temple Bar.

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