Weary with many thoughts, the vicar came to the door of the bank.

There were several carriages there, and a crowd of people swarming in and out, like bees round a hive-door, entering with anxious faces, and returning with cheerful ones, to stop and talk earnestly in groups round the door.

Every moment the mass thickened--there was a run on the bank.

An old friend accosted him on the steps,-- 'What! have you, too, money here, then ?' 'Neither here nor anywhere else, thank Heaven!' said the vicar.

'But is anything wrong ?' 'Have not you heard?
The house has sustained a frightful blow this week--railway speculations, so they say--and is hardly expected to survive the day.