To her repeated enquiries as to what produced this great distress, he would only answer by shaking his head and giving vent to the most pitiful groans.
The lady could not fail to see that some great misfortune had overtaken her husband--something that might blast the dream of her golden future.
"I hope, my dear, it is nothing that will interfere with the wedding to-day ?" she enquired, her face already beginning to give out signs of alarm.
Chapman made no reply, but got quickly up from the sofa and paced the room hurriedly, his hair tossed in to disorder, and in a state of frenzy.
After pacing up and down the room in this manner for two or three minutes, which seemed like hours to Mrs.Chapman, who had kept her eyes fixed on his every movement, he approached the lady, and with a wild stare, muttered rather than spoke: "A funeral, funeral, my dear--not a wedding to-day." Chapman pressed his hands to his head again, and wept like a child.

"Boundless iniquity," he resumed, "fraud--deception--crime-- disgrace--folly--extravagance--disappointment--poverty.

What a sham the world is! All, all is gone! No need for a clergyman here to-day.

The sheriff will be here in an hour." "My dear, my dear, do explain yourself, so that I may understand our position;" Mrs.Chapman interposed, her whole system yielding to the force of excitement.

"If the trouble is only of a transient nature, we may still give the wedding--" "Wedding! my dear," interrupted Chapman, wiping the tears from his eyes.
"There can be no wedding in this house to-day, for Gusher has turned out an impostor, and is in prison--." Before he had time to say any more, the lady threw up her arms with an exclamation, shrieked and swooned.
Chapman attempted to catch her in his arms as she was falling, but she carried him to the floor under her great weight, and indeed caused him to feel alarmed for his own safety.