It is no use asking you, I fear, what became of you after a certain riot in Boulogne when you, as the Ghost in `Hamlet,' and your fellow-tragedians were mobbed for not paying the rent of your hall ?" Mr Ratman, who during this cross-examination had passed through all the stages from blustering rage to abject discomfiture, sank back on his chair and turned a livid face to his questioner.

He had sense enough to see that the game was up; and not being an actor himself, he was at a loss to conceal his defeat.

The tutor's cold, keen gaze took the heart out of him.
"Lying dog!" snarled he, "I've had enough of your questions.

You think yourself clever, but I'll be even with you yet.

I'll ruin the lot of you--you and your fellow-scoundrel and his brats, who don't know yet what it is to have a felon for a father.