t of what turned out to be Bank of England notes. Not many,
it is true; but a marvel all the same. The gatekeeper glanced at the
culprit again, and said good-humouredly,

'Bought that coat this morning? Then you're in luck's way, my man,
that's all I can say. We don't keep them kind o' goods in our
warehouses. There ye are.'

He once more examined the dirty little parchment bag all over; there
was no scrap of writing on it, or on any of the notes.

'There ye are,' he said, giving him back both the coat and the valuable
package. 'There's some as would advertise in the papers about that
money; and there's some as would go to Scotland Yard, and expect to get
something; and there's some, seein' as there's no writin', as would
stick to it, and set up a shop. Where did you buy the coat, my man?'

'At an outfitter's in the Minories--it was an exchange for my own,'
said Douglas hastily; he was anxious above all things, money or no
money, to get away from this crowd of curious faces.

'An outfitter! yes, it's a fine name. Anyhow, the money don't belong
to _him_. Most likely, now, that coat belonged to some seafaring man
as got drownded, and the poor chap's things sold. Pass on there, my
lads!'

Douglas escaped from the crowd, and got away. He was greatly
bewildered and excited; not often in his life had he come through so
much in so short a time. He walked hard, and did not stop until he sat
down in his own little room, in the cold and dark.

Hour after hour he sat there, himself fighting with himself; or rather
his consciousness of what was right fighting with his great desire to
do something to help that luckless child, lying there a few streets
farther off, friendless, poverty-stricken, fever-stricken, with the
most hopeless of futures before her. He argued with himself that no
doubt the gatekeeper's guess was correct; the money had belonged to
some sailor or pilot, who had been drowned, and his personal effects,
whether found on his dead body, or perhaps in the hold of a derelict,
sold. Certainly these notes did not belong to the old-clothes' man in
the Minories. It almost seemed as if a special act of Providence had
placed this money at his disposal to succour this helpless one in her
sickness, and support and strengthen her in her convalescence. As for
himself, he never dreamed of touching it for his own uses. He had
found out at last one way of earning his own living. But even if he
were to be pe