perty, he found so many debts and various
associations of discredit with the proper name, which was the only word
he made intelligible, that he was almost everywhere overwhelmed with
injurious accusations. On no fewer than four occasions the police
were called in to receive denunciations of Mr Meagles as a Knight of
Industry, a good-for-nothing, and a thief, all of which opprobrious
language he bore with the best temper (having no idea what it meant),
and was in the most ignominious manner escorted to steam-boats and
public carriages, to be got rid of, talking all the while, like a
cheerful and fluent Briton as he was, with Mother under his arm.

But, in his own tongue, and in his own head, Mr Meagles was a clear,
shrewd, persevering man. When he had 'worked round,' as he called it, to
Paris in his pilgrimage, and had wholly failed in it so far, he was not
disheartened. 'The nearer to England I follow him, you see, Mother,'
argued Mr Meagles, 'the nearer I am likely to come to the papers,
whether they turn up or no. Because it is only reasonable to conclude
that he would deposit them somewhere where they would be safe from
people over in England, and where they would yet be accessible to
himself, don't you see?'

At Paris Mr Meagles found a letter from Little Dorrit, lying waiting for
him; in which she mentioned that she had been able to talk for a minute
or two with Mr Clennam about this man who was no more; and that when she
told Mr Clennam that his friend Mr Meagles, who was on his way to see
him, had an interest in ascertaining something about the man if he
could, he had asked her to tell Mr Meagles that he had been known
to Miss Wade, then living in such a street at Calais. 'Oho!' said Mr
Meagles.

As soon afterwards as might be in those Diligence days, Mr Meagles
rang the cracked bell at the cracked gate, and it jarred open, and the
peasant-woman stood in the dark doorway, saying, 'Ice-say! Seer! Who?'
In acknowledgment of whose address, Mr Meagles murmured to himself that
there was some sense about these Calais people, who really did know
something of what you and themselves were up to; and returned, 'Miss
Wade, my dear.' He was then shown into the presence of Miss Wade.

'It's some time since we met,' said Mr Meagles, clearing his throat; 'I
hope you have been pretty well, Miss Wade?'

Without hoping that he or anybody else had been pretty well, Miss Wade
asked him to what she was indebted for the honour of