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was riding along at a foot pace over the smooth gravel； once
Nickits’s； when Mr Bounderby burst out of the shrubbery； with
such violence as to make his horse shy across the road。
“Harthouse；” cried Mr Bounderby。 “Have you heard？”
“Heard what？” said Harthouse； soothing his horse； and
inwardly favouring Mr Bounderby with no good wishes。
“Then you haven’t heard！”
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“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。”
“Of much？”
Mr Bounderby； in his desire to make the most of it； really
seemed mortified by being obliged to reply； “Why； no； not of very
much。 But it might have been。”
“Of how much？”
“Oh！ as a sum—if you stick to a sum—of not more than a
hundred and fifty pound；” said Bounderby； with impatience。 “But
it’s not the sum； it’s the fact。 It’s the fact of the bank being robbed；
that’s the important circumstance。 I am surprised you don’t see
it。”
“My dear Bounderby；” said James； dismounting； and giving his
bridle to his servant； “I do see it； and am as overcome as you can
possibly desire me to be； by the spectacle afforded to my mental
view。 Nevertheless； I may be allowed； I hope； to congratulate
you—which I do with all my soul； I assure you—on your not
having sustained a greater loss。”
“Thank’ee；” replied Bounderby； in a short； ungracious manner。
“But I tell you what。 It might have been twenty thousand pound。”
“I suppose it might。”
“Suppose it might！ By the Lord； you may suppose so。 By
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George！” said Mr Bounderby； with sundry menacing nods and
shakes of his head； “It might have been twice twenty。 There’s no
knowing what it would have been； or wouldn’t have been； as it
was； but for the fellows’ being disturbed。”
Louisa had come up now； and Mrs Sparsit； and Bitzer。
“Here’s Tom Gradgrind’s daughter knows pretty well what it
might have been； if you don’t；” blustered Bounderby。 “Dropped；
sir； as if she was shot when I told her！ Never knew her to do such a
thing before。 Does her credit； under the circumstances； in my
opinion！”
She still looked faint and pale。 James Harthouse begged her to
take his arm； and as they moved on very slowly； asked her how the
robbery had been committed。
“Why； I am going to tell you；” said Bounderby； irritably giving
his arm to Mrs Sparsit。 “If you hadn’t been so mighty particular
about the sum； I should have begun to tell you before。 You know
this lady （for she is a lady）； Mrs Sparsit？”
“I have already had the honour—”
“Very well。 And this young man； Bitzer； you saw him too on the
same occasion？” Mr Harthouse inclined his head in assent； and
Bitzer knuckled his forehead。
“Very well。 They live at the Bank。 You know they live at the
Bank； perhaps？ Very well。 Yesterday afternoon； at the close of
business hours； everything was put away as usual。 In the iron
room that this young fellow sleeps outside of； there was never
mind how much。 In the little safe in young Tom’s closet； the safe
used for petty purposes； there was a hundred and fifty odd
pound。”
“A hundred and fifty…four； seven； one；” said Bitzer。
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“Come！” retorted Bounderby； stopping to wheel round upon
him； “let’s have none of your interruptions。 It’s enough to be
robbed while you’re snoring because you’re too comfortable；
without being put right with your four seven ones。 I didn’t snore；
myself； when I was your age； let me tell you。 I hadn’t victuals
enough to snore。 And I didn’t four seven one。 Not if knew it。”
Bitzer knuckled his forehead again； in a sneaking manner； and
seemed at once particularly impressed and depressed by the
instance last given of Mr Bounderby’s moral abstinence。
“A hundred and fifty odd pound；” resumed Mr Bounderby。
“That sum of money； young Tom locked in his safe； not a very
strong safe； but that’s no matter now。 Everything was left； all right。
Some time in the night； while this young fellow snored—Mrs
Sparsit； ma’am； you say you have heard him snore？”
“Sir；” returned Mrs Sparsit； “I cannot say that I have heard him
precisely snore； and therefore must not make that statement。 But
on winter evenings； when he has fallen asleep at his table； I have
heard him； what I should prefer to describe as partially choke。 I
have heard him on such occasions produce sounds of a nature
similar to what may be sometimes heard in Dutch clocks。 Not；”
said Mrs Sparsit； with a lofty sense of giving strict evidence； “that I
would convey any imputation on his moral character。 Far from it。 I
have always considered Bitzer a young man of the most upright
principle； and to that I beg to bear my testimony。”
“Well！” said the exasperated Bounderby； “while he was
snoring； or choking； or Dutch…clocking； or something or other—
being asleep—some fellows； somehow； whether previously
concealed in the house or not remains to be seen； got to young
Tom’s safe； forced it； and abstracted the contents。 Being then
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disturbed； they made off； letting themselves out at the main door；
and double…locking it again （it was double…locked； and the key
under Mrs Sparsit’s pillow） with a false key； which was picked up
in the street near the Bank； about twelve o’clock today。 No alarm
takes place； till this chap； Bitzer； turns out this morning； and
begins to open and prepare the offices for business。 Then； looking
at Tom’s safe； he sees the door ajar； and finds the lock forced； and
the money gone。”
“Where is Tom； by the by？” asked Harthouse； glancing round。
“He has been helping the police；” said Bounderby； “and stays
behind at the Bank。 I wish these fellows had tried to rob me when
I was at his time of life。 They would have been out of pocket if they
had invested eighteenpence in the job： I can tell ’em that。”
“Is anybody suspected？”
“Suspected？ I should think there was somebody suspected。
Egod！” said Bounderby； relinquishing Mrs Sparsit’s arm to wipe
his heated head。 “Josiah Bounderby； of Coketown is not to be
plundered and nobody suspected。 No； thank you！”
Might Mr Harthouse inquire Who was suspected？
“Well；” said Bounderby； stopping and facing about to confront
them all； “I’ll tell you。 It’s not to be mentioned everywhere； it’s not
to be mentioned anywhere： in order that the scoundrels concerned
（there’s a gang of ’em） may be thrown off their guard。 So take this
in confidence。 Now wait a bit。” Mr Bounderby wiped his head
again。 “What should you say to；” here he violently exploded： “to a
Hand being in it？”
“I hope；” said Harthouse； lazily； “not our friend Blackpot？”
“Say Pool instead of Pot； sir；” returned Bounderby； “and that’s
the man。”
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