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I had a furious interview with Mrs. Stubbs; and when I charged her, the base wretch! with cheating me, like a brazen serpent as she was, she flung back the cheat in my teeth, and swore I had swindled her. Why did I marry her, when she might have had twenty others? She only took me, she said, because I had twenty thousand pounds. I HAD said I possessed that sum; but in love, you know, and war all’s fair.

We parted quite as angrily as we met; and I cordially vowed that when I had paid the debt into which I had been swindled by her, I would take my 2,000L. and depart to some desert island; or, at the very least, to America, and never see her more, or any of her Israelitish brood. There was no use in remaining in the spunging-house (for I knew that there were such things as detainers, and that where Mrs. Stubbs owed a hundred pounds, she might owe a thousand) so I sent for Mr. Nabb, and tendering him a cheque for 150L. and his costs, requested to be let out forthwith. “Here, fellow,” said I, “is a cheque on Child’s for your paltry sum.”

“It may be a sheck on Shild’s,” says Mr. Nabb; “but I should be a baby to let you out on such a paper as dat.”

“Well,” said I, “Child’s is but a step from this: you may go and get the cash,–just give me an acknowledgment.”

Nabb drew out the acknowledgment with great punctuality, and set off for the bankers’, whilst I prepared myself for departure from this abominable prison.

He smiled as he came in. “Well,” said I, “you have touched your money; and now, I must tell you, that you are the most infernal rogue and extortioner I ever met with.”

“Oh, no, Mishter Shtubbsh,” says he, grinning still. “Dere is som greater roag dan me,–mosh greater.”

“Fellow,” said I, “don’t stand grinning before a gentleman; but give me my hat and cloak, and let me leave your filthy den.”

“Shtop, Shtubbsh,” says he, not even Mistering me this time. “Here ish a letter, vich you had better read.”

I opened the letter; something fell to the ground:–it was my cheque.

The letter ran thus: “Messrs. Child and Co. present their compliments to Captain Stubbs, and regret that they have been obliged to refuse payment of the enclosed, having been served this day with an attachment by Messrs. Solomonson and Co., which compels them to retain Captain Stubbs’ balance of 2,010L. 11s. 6d. until the decision of the suit of Solomonson v. Stubbs.

“FLEET STREET.”

“You see,” says Mr. Nabb, as I read this dreadful letter–“you see, Shtubbsh, dere vas two debts,–a little von and a big von. So dey arrested you for de little von, and attashed your money for de big von.”

Don’t laugh at me for telling this story. If you knew what tears are blotting over the paper as I write it–if you knew that for weeks after I was more like a madman than a sane man,–a madman in the Fleet Prison, where I went instead of to the desert island! What had I done to deserve it? Hadn’t I always kept an eye to the main chance? Hadn’t I lived economically, and not like other young men? Had I ever been known to squander or give away a single penny? No! I can lay my hand on my heart, and, thank heaven, say, No! Why, why was I punished so?

Let me conclude this miserable history. Seven months–my wife saw me once or twice, and then dropped me altogether–I remained in that fatal place. I wrote to my dear mamma, begging her to sell her furniture, but got no answer. All my old friends turned their backs upon me. My action went against me–I had not a penny to defend it. Solomonson proved my wife’s debt, and seized my two thousand pounds. As for the detainer against me, I was obliged to go through the court for the relief of insolvent debtors. I passed through it, and came out a beggar. But fancy the malice of that wicked Stiffelkind: he appeared in court as my creditor for 3L., with sixteen years’ interest at five per cent, for a PAIR OF TOP-BOOTS. The old thief produced them in court, and told the whole story–Lord Cornwallis, the detection, the pumping and all.