Raven, and a pint of
burnt brandy put into him. He seems all right to-day."

"Will he go in and win?"

"Chut! Win against Carlyle! He has not the ghost of a chance; and
government--if it is the government who put him on--must be a pack of
fools; they can't know the influence of Carlyle. Bethel, is that style
of costume the fashion where you come from?"

"For slender pockets. I'll sell 'em to you now, James, at half price.
Let's get a look at this Levison, though. I have never seen the fellow."

Another interruption of the crowd, even as he spoke, caused by the
railway van bringing up some luggage. They contrived, in the confusion,
to push themselves to the front, not far from Sir Francis. Otway Bethel
stared at him in unqualified amazement.

"Why, what brings _him_ here? What is he doing?"

"Who?"

He pointed his finger. "The one with the white handkerchief in his
hand."

"That is Sir Francis."

"No!" uttered Bethel, a whole world of astounded meaning in his tone.
"By Jove! _He_ Sir Francis Levison?"

At that moment their eyes met, Francis Levison's and Otway Bethel's.
Otway Bethel raised his shaggy hat in salutation, and Sir Francis
appeared completely scared. Only for an instant did he lose his presence
of mind. The next, his eyeglass was stuck in his eye and turned on Mr.
Bethel, with a hard, haughty stare; as much as to say, who are you,
fellow, that you should take such a liberty? But his cheeks and lips
were growing as white as marble.

"Do you know Levison, Mr. Otway?" inquired old Dill.

"A little. Once."

"When he was not Levison, but somebody else," laughed Mr. Ebenezer
James. "Eh, Bethel?"

Bethel turned as reproving a stare on Mr. Ebenezer as the baronet had
just turned on him. "What do you mean, pray? Mind your own business."

A nod to old Dill, and he turned off and disappeared, taking no further
notice of James. The old gentleman questioned the latter.

"What was that little bit of by-play, Mr. Ebenezer?"

"Nothing much," laughed Mr. Ebenezer. "Only he," nodding towards Sir
Francis, "was not always the great man he is now."

"Ah!"

"I have held my tongue about it, for it's no affair of mine, but I don't
mind letting you into the secret. Would you believe that that grand
baronet there, would-be member for West Lynne, used, years ago, to
dodge about Abbey Wood, mad after Afy Hallijohn? He didn't call himself
Levison then."

Mr. Dill felt as if a hundred pins and needles were prick