ful; and
that to so foolish an extent that he actually brandished in the eyes
of the multitude a whole handful of banknotes. He now remembered this,
and was greatly struck by the curious fact that Lala Roy should seem
to know it.

"I haven't got any money. It was all brag last night. I couldn't help
my grandfather if I wanted to."

"You have what is left of three hundred pounds," said Lala Roy.

"If I said that last night," replied Joe, "I must have been drunker
than I thought. You old fool! the flimsies were duffers. Where do you
think I could raise three hundred pounds? No, no--I'm sorry for the
old man, but I can't help him. I'm going to see him again in a day or
two. We jolly sailors don't make much money, but if a pound or two,
when I come home, will be of any use to him, he's only got to say the
word. After all, I believe it's a kid, got up between you. The old man
must have saved something."

"You will suffer him, then, even to be taken to the workhouse?"

"Why, I can't help it, and I suppose you'll have to go there too. Ho,
ho! I say, Nig!" He began to laugh. "Ho, ho! They won't let you wear
that old fez of yours at the workhouse. How beautiful you'll look in
the workhouse uniform, won't you? I'll come home, and bring you some
'baccy. Now you can cheese it, old 'un."

"I will go, if that is what you mean. It is the last time that you
will be asked to help your grandfather. The door is closed. You have
had one more chance, and you have thrown it away."

So he departed, and Joe, who was of a self-reliant and sanguine
disposition, thought nothing of the warning, which was therefore
thrown away and wasted.

As for Lala, he called a cab, and drove to Shadwell. And if any man
ever felt that he was an instrument set apart to carry out a scheme of
vengeance, that Hindoo philosopher felt like one. The Count of Monte
Cristo himself was not more filled with the faith and conviction of
his divine obligation.

In the afternoon he returned to Chelsea, and perhaps one who knew him
might have remarked upon his face something like a gleam of
satisfaction. He had done his duty.

It was now five days since the fatal discovery. Mr. Emblem still
remained upstairs in his chair; but he was slowly recovering. He
clearly remembered that he had been robbed, and the principal sign of
the shock was his firm conviction that by his own exercise of memory
Iris had been enabled to enter into possession of her own.

As regards th