slept for a few hours in defiance of wind and weather.

'Arry was used to this kind of thing. On the whole he deemed it
preferable to the life he would have led at his mother's.

By eight o'clock next morning he was back in Brixton, standing just
where he could see the house which Rodman had entered, without himself
attracting attention. Every rag on his back was soaked; he had not
eaten a mouthful for thirty hours. After such a run of bad luck perhaps
something was about to turn up.

But it was ten o'clock before Rodman left home. 'Arry had no feeling
left in any particle of his body. Still here at length was the
opportunity of seeing Alice. He waited till Rodman was out of sight,
then went to the door and knocked.

It was Clara who opened the door. Seeing 'Arry, she took him for a
beggar, shook her head, and was closing the door against him, when she
heard--

'Is Mrs. Rodman in, mum?'

'Mrs.--who?'

'Mrs. Rodman.'

Clara's eyes flashed as they searched his face.

'What do you want with Mrs. Rodman?'

'Want to see her, mum.'

'Do you know her when you see her?'

'Sh' think I do,' replied 'Arry with a grin. But he thought it prudent
to refrain from explanation.

'How do you know she lives here?'

''Cause I just see her 'usband go out.'

Clara hesitated a moment, then bade him enter. She introduced him to a
parlour on the ground floor. He stood looking uneasily about him. The
habits of his life made him at all times suspicious.

'Mrs. Rodman doesn't live here,' Clara began, lowering her voice and
making a great effort to steady it.

'Oh, she don't?' replied 'Arry, beginning to discern that something was
wrong.

'Can you tell me what you want with her?'

He looked her in the eyes and again grinned.

'Dare say I could if it was made worth my while.'

She took a purse from her pocket and laid half-a-crown on the table. Her
hand shook.

'I can't afford more than that. You shall have it if you tell me the
truth.'

'Arry took counsel with himself for an instant. Probably there was no
more to be got, and he saw from the woman's agitation that he had come
upon some mystery. The chance of injuring Rodman was more to him than
several half-crowns.

'I won't ask more,' he said, 'if you'll tell me who _you_ are. That's
fair on both sides, eh?'

'My name is Mrs. Williamson.'

'Oh? And might it 'appen that Mr. Rodman calls himself Mr. Williamson
when it suits him?'

'I don't know what you mean,'