When all the goods were disposed of in the cart, and the outhouses completely ransacked, Mr. Cuff pursued his researches in the house. I quite admired the acquaintance he seemed to have with locks and keys. Though there were as many perhaps as fifty or sixty keys upon Mrs. Lewis's bunch, he, after glancing into the lock, selected the right one at once, hardly ever making a mistake. He did not, however, find much to reward him except clothes and such ornaments as Mrs. Lewis had for her own use. In vain he examined the backs of drawers and sounded the bottoms of boxes, and tapped at the panelling and the skirting-boards, and ran his finger along cornices; nothing else could he discover. He went over Lewis's room over and over again, whistling in a meditative manner, not any particular tune, but a sort of fizzing sibillation, like an exhausted boiler, but the scrutiny did not produce what he seemed to hope for. As a last resource, he held a very long consultation with his chin, stroking it up and down and across, as though he expected to rub an idea out of it in one direction or another. At last he said, "Well, we'll go now." I went into the room where the prisoners sat in the custody of Sykes alone. As soon as I got close to Lewis he took the opportunity of saying, "The schooner will be up in the river in the morning. Let Brace know. In my room, the fourth board from the window, press the knot in the board and lift it. There are two parcels; take the smallest." This was said in a very low tone-a whisperand Cuff had not come into the room; but, looking toward the door, I saw his eye glittering in the opening between it and the doorpost. He was listening. Lewis's look followed mine, and he stopped directly. Presently he added, "Letting you speak to me is a trick; be careful."

Mr. Cuff stood at the door as long as it pleased him, and then followed me in, without anything in his air to indicate that he knew we were aware of his prying. Indeed, instead of being embarrassed, Mr. Cuff was rather more cordial and open than ever. It was only as if an afterthought had occurred to him that he said to me, in the most matter-of-course tone possible, "By-the-bye, my young friend, there is just one thing I've forgotten. Show me a light up stairs, will you?" Lewis looked "Be careful," as I complied with Cuff's request.

What the one thing Mr. Cuff had forgotten was, I was rather slow to discover. He went into three or four of the rooms and walked across them, and left each after a short consul

tation with his chin. When we came to Lewis's room he stayed longer. I had nearly betrayed myself and fallen into his trap. I had seen boys playing a game I suppose boys play now one hides something, another searches for it, asking, "Am I hot," "Am I cold,” “Do

burn," and the answers the other gives indicate the searcher's nearness to, or remoteness from, the hidden object. It struck me after a few minutes that Mr. Cuff was silently playing this game with me, and gathering information from my face. I found this out by noticing that instead of his eyes being bent upon everything as before, while he was moving about they were peeping out of the corners at me. He had allowed me to speak to Lewis, guessing at what Lewis wanted to tell me, and tried to catch it from behind the door. Failing in that, he hit on this scheme. My looks had told him he was "cold" in the rooms we first entered, now they informed him he was "hot." That man had the perceptions of a savage. If my instincts had not been nearly as quick as his, he would have gained his object in a couple of minutes more. Standing on the very board, he had found out that he "burned," and his eyes were sometimes on the floor, when I baulked him by suddenly turning my back on him. In vain he spoke to me, and walked round me to read my face. Young as I was and inexperienced, when I was upon my guard I had great power of self-control. In vain he paced the boards to and fro, listening to the sound of his feet. It was of no use. I was as stolid as a North American Indian. I was not to be caught. Then came Mr. Cuff's disappointed, melancholy, monotonous whistle. Then a conference of rather a more violent kind than usual with his chin, but the oracle not furnishing any response, Mr. Cuff said as though he intended the remark as a sort of compliment-" Oh, you're an older hand than I took you for, that's what you are; ain't you now?" and went down stairs again. Lewis smiled when he saw us. He understood that his secret was safe. Without allowing me any other opportunity for private conversation, Cuff departed with his prisoners. Mrs. Lewis, Lewis, and Marks, were helped into the chaise, and the horse was led by one of the assistants. Sykes was left in possession, to carry out some whispered instructions he received with the injunction to "be awake."

I did not sleep that night. The servant, who had been kept apart from the rest of the household till then, wanted me to go to bed, but when I thought of that room it seemed all shadow. She brought me some supper, but I

could not eat. Food would have choked me. Sykes could eat though. He had a great capacity for eating. I thought he never would finish, and he did not till he had cleared the tray.

We were not very lively that night. Sykes had not the same conversational powers as his master. After he had done eating, he pulled up another chair for his legs, and was soon, as I thought, fast asleep, with his stick under his arm. I tried to steal cautiously out of the room, but I had not taken half a dozen steps before he said, "Hullo, young feller! don't you play no tricks; I allus sleeps with one eye open." One eye was all Sykes had to open when he was awake, so his sleeping did not give me any additional chance of getting upstairs unobserved.

I sat and watched till daylight came. I did not think much of what had taken place. The events of the night floated through my mind in a confused way, but all the time my attention kept well to one point-how to get to Lewis's room. That, it was clear, the one-eyed giant did not intend to allow me to do.

I thought over all the plans which presented themselves. Should I tell the servant, who went and came, unwatched? No, that would not do. Sykes would hear me. It was dangerous. The dark thought I had entertained before in two instances came uncalled for. Should I kill Sykes? Most men shrink with horror from the thought of taking life. I never did; never even as a boy. I believe it is as natural for some men to shed blood as for some animals to seek their prey. My nature was one prone to appeal to force, so was Lewis's, so was his wife's. Perhaps that common feeling was one of the links of the chain which unconsciously bound us together. I have seen others with the same tendency, which I think is found as often in the delicately-organised and the refined as in the coarse and brutal. It is more frequent in the people of warm countries. The hard, cold Northerns will fight when their blood is up-fight hand to hand to the death--but the Spaniard, the Italian, the Turk, are ready to take life without the excitement of combat. I had a southern nature. I do not care to moralise upon it. It does not concern me what moralists may say. I only tell what is and has been, and facts are more powerful than moralising.

It was from no dislike to take life that I did not attempt that of Sykes. It was not fear kept me from it. It was the unceasing vigilance of that functionary. Superior as he was

to me in strength, I even had a half-formed plan in my mind which I thought might succeed if I could take him sleeping. With one of the knives left on the supper tray I might strike the giant. I did not consider then how ineffectual success would be for permanent help. I did not compare the risk with the object to be gained. My impulses, like those of most men of strong instincts, are, if not more powerful than my reason, more quickly aroused. I have always been impelled to act first, to reflect afterwards.

But the difficulty was, to catch Sykes asleep. Though the man snored like a locomotive, he seemed sleepless. The slightest motion disturbed him. Twice, three times, I moved towards the table where the knives were; each time I found the one eye of Sykes open upon me. I do not know whether he guessed what was passing in my mind; Cuff would have known, I am certain; I think Sykes did; and the vigilant monster gave such a grin as, I thought, expressed his amusement at it. But he was a man of few words, and on each occasion he saluted me with the same phrase "Hullo, youngster! don't you play no tricks. I allus sleeps with one eye open."

With all his vigilance, though, I got the better of Mr. Sykes. He had his breakfast very early, merely remarking to the servant who came in now and then, that "he allus liked his breakfast fust thing." I shared that meal with him, thinking if I did not he would suspect me more than ever. It was as well I did so. Men are more apt to like those who do as they do than others. My experience tells me that differences of habits are more fertile causes of antipathies than important personal qualities. National antipathies, I think, rest mainly on that foundation. Englishmen of that day, at all events, hated Frenchmen and Dutchmen, more because the one ate frogs and the other wore wooden shoes, than anything else. If you want to win a man's heart, adopt his habits. I do not say I won Mr. Sykes' heart, even if he had one—1 -I mean a sentimental heart, of course, to be won-but I was rewarded by the remark, "That's right, youngster; I allus puts more trust in a chap as plays a good knife and fork." I thought Mr. Sykes ought to have unlimited confidence in himself, as I daresay he had; at all events, he did trust me more afterwards. He went into the hall and sat down close to the stairs, and told me with a grimly gracious air, I might "take a run in the garden, if so be as I thought well." I did think well. I quite understood

that Sykes had orders not to let me go up stairs alone, and was acting upon them literally. So I went to the back of the house, and, with a short ladder kept there for the purpose of nailing up the fruit trees, made my way in at a back window. Taking off my shoes, I crept stealthily to Lewis's room. I found the board and the knot he had described. On examining the knot, I discovered that the centre, which sunk a little below the surrounding level, so that a foot-tread did not touch it, was loose. Pressing it with the end of a pencil, I heard a slight click, and a portion of the board, beautifully fitted to the rest, shifted a little, so that I could raise it. Below, between the floor and the roof of the room underneath, was a kind of cupboard. In it were three packages instead of two, as Lewis had said. That circumstance puzzled me a little, but I saw that two of the packages were alike except in size-small parcels, neatly tied up in brown paper. The third consisted of some documents in a case. I thought Lewis, when he spoke of two parcels, must have meant the smaller of the two which were made up in the same way, so I took that, returned the board to its place, and cautiously descended and removed the ladder. I was just in time. When I got round to the front of the house, Sykes was stepping from the door to take, as he said, "a sniff o' air," which I interpreted to mean to look after me; but he was too late.

CHAPTER XVIII.

HAILING THE SCHOONER.

My next thought was how to warn old Brace, who, if he came to the house, would fall into the grasp of Cuff; and I came to the conclusion, that if I could tell what time the schooner would be up, I had better go down the river and try to get on board her before she reached Black wall. Among the books was an almanack with a tide-table. I took that from the bookcase, and consulted it for the time the tide flowed. As I did so, Sykes looked over my shoulder, and it was not hard to tell that he could not read. I remembered the expression I had seen on the face of my Irish nurse when I used to display my learning to her. Though Sykes was a very different person, when I looked up at him, as he ran his eye over the columns of figures, I recognized the same expression. But Sykes was very sharp in his way. As I traced out the figures I wanted with my finger, he put his finger on the margin as though out of curiosity, and left the mark of his thumb-nail there. I knew

what that meant-that was a memorandum for Cuff, and if Cuff saw the book I thought he would ferret out the object with which I had looked at it. There was danger in that. I pretended to put the almanack away among some pamphlets of similar size, but thrust it into the bottom of my waistcoat unperceived, so that the clue to my motions was lost.

The next thing to be done was to get away, but that promised to be a matter of difficulty. I expected any attempt of that nature would be met with Sykes's "Hullo, youngster!" At last, I fixed on seizing the first favourable opportunity of getting a few yards' start, and then running for it, trusting partly to my own speed of foot, partly to the hope that Sykes would not leave the place of which he was left in charge to follow me any distance. How to get the few yards' start was the problem. My guardian, as the process of digestion went on, and he grew hungry again, lost a portion of the trustfulness which my eating my breakfast had given him, and kept close to my elbow. I went into the woodhouse at last, and there Sykes lost his caution for a moment in professional admiration of the hiding-place he and his fellows had ransacked. I seized the opportunity-dashed at the gate-cleared itand made some yards' progress before I heard the voice of Mr. Sykes, as he came on in pursuit. I left the road at once, jumped the ditch, and at the top of my speed took to the marshes. However badly I might have fared in a struggle with the giant if he had caught me, and for a struggle I made up my mind if it came to that, he was no match for me at getting over the ground. Light, agile, muscular, and deep-chested, I gained on him at every stride. The last I saw of Mr. Sykes that morning was, when hearing a splash, I trusted myself for the first time to turn my head, and saw him emerging from a wide ditch I had leaped a minute before, shaking the water from his rough coat like a huge dog.

Relieved from any dread of my pursuer, who gave up the chase, I pursued my way at a more moderate pace. I had no fixed idea of where I was going, or how I should contrive to board the schooner; but accident threw in my way the opportunity I was unable to plan for myself. I followed the bend of the river, taking the direction which led away from London. After a run of more than an hour, I knew, by the watch Lewis had given me, and which I had in my pocket, that the time marked for the turn of the tide by the timetable had passed. I hit on a desperate expedient to carry out my object. I was a tolerable

swimmer-I had learnt that at Forest Hall, in the deep woodland pools to be found in our rambles-I mean the rambles of little Warner and myself. I should know the schooner if she came in sight. I was sure of that. Could I not manage to swim off to her? I would try, at all events. The river, it is true, was far broader than any water I had ever ventured into, and I knew nothing of the strength of the tide; but it was smooth, and I was fearless. I should have attempted it, and perhaps have succeeded. My jacket was half off, when I saw at some distance a fisherman, leading a child by the hand, and talking to two country lads, who were lounging on the bank. Perhaps the fisherman would suggest some better way to me.

When I got nearer, I recognised the man as one of the crew of the schooner when I came in her from Ireland. I have a strong memory for faces-once seen, even casually, I seldom forget them. Seamen generally change less in a given time than any other class. The first few years of sea-life harden them, so that for a long time they defy change. This man, I recollected, went on board by the name of "Mousey," because he had one of those marks which Nature, in a fantastic mood, sometimes stamps children with. On the back of his hand, close to the wrist, was a patch of dark hair, which somewhat resembled a mouse with its tail curled up. When I got near enough, I saw that on the hand the child was holding. I had little difficulty in making myself known to him, though I had changed far more than he had. In persons of stronglymarked characters, though the body may grow or wither, and the features change, there is a distinctly marked individuality of expres sions which at all ages renders them more easily recognisable than others. I suppose there was something of this about me, for Mousey remembered me at once.

I was prudent enough not to tell him the position in which matters stood. I treated my excursion as a freak, arising from a boyish desire to get on board the schooner before she got to Blackwall-told him of my project of swimming on board, at which he opened his eyes rather widely, and enlisted his assistance. As it happened, his boat was on the shore close by, and, telling one of the boys to take "little Jane" home to his cottage, which was not far off, put himself at my service. According to his calculation of old Brace's movements, the schooner would be up in half an hour or so, and we pulled off into the stream to wait for her. Before that time had passed I was on

board in front of old Brace, and Mousey was pulling back to the shore.

Old Brace was not surprised at my appearance on deck; at least, he did not show any more surprise than was indicated by giving the quid in his mouth a fresh turn, and wriggling about his mutilated "fin," as he called it, in the pocket of his pea-jacket. He was not a man to be surprised easily, or taken a-back in a hurry; as he said himself, when he was "on a tack he didn't go about till there was need he always held his wind till he knew wherefore." I believe if Neptune had boarded him trident in hand, he would have hailed him with "What cheer, shipmet!" and not taken his hand out of his pocket. The feelings of some people lie beneath a skin of stolidity as thick and impenetrable as that of the rhinoceros. Such men view the most startling things as if they were a long distance off, and calmly take time to consider. I told Brace how things were on shore, and he never moved a muscle of his face, except as the quid dictated. When he had heard me out, he gave orders to his mate to take in sail, and come to an anchor.

For some time after that was done the old sailor did not speak. He stamped up and down the deck, stopping now and then to look at the compass, as though that were ar authority to be consulted. This was his usual course in matters of difficulty, I supposed, by the way the crew took it. A weather-beaten seaman expressed the general opinion thus :Fog-bank a-head, and the skipper's working his dead-reckoning." I thought, judging by old Brace's face, and the impatient short stamping steps he took up and down the deck, that "working his dead-reckoning," whatever that might be, was a puzzling, and by no means lively, occupation. When that operation was over, and the captain, after duly pondering over the result, in company with the compass, had got deep enough below the surface to come to his mind, he hooked me by the collar of my jacket, and took me off down into the cabin.

If old Brace was slow at making up his mind on subjects which lay out of his ordinary track, he was equally slow at expressing it. I have read that the priestesses of the ancient oracles were inspired by inhaling the vapours which steamed up around their shrines. Old Brace was silent till his intellects were enlightened by his pipe. He never felt the full inspiration of wisdom till his maimed hand had felt the burning weed, and a cloud of smoke rendered him almost invisible. So old