“Heard what?” said Harthouse, soothing his horse, and inwardly favouring Mr. Bounderby with no good wishes.

“Then you haven’t heard!”

“I have heard you, and so has this brute. I have heard nothing else.”

Mr. Bounderby, red and hot, planted himself in the centre of the path before the horse’s head, to explode his bombshell with more effect.

“The Bank’s robbed!”

“You don’t mean it!”

“Robbed last night, sir. Robbed in an extraordinary manner. Robbed with a false key.”