lled with terror of anarchist plots, was one of the first to
prostrate himself, and at that there could be no further doubt of the
imminence of the peril.

The cabs rattled and voices sounded from outside; an engine whistled and
shunted at a far platform, but never before at that hour of the day had
Liverpool Street Station been so silent. All held their breath and heard
their hearts thump as they gazed in horrible fascination at that fatal
bag, or with closed eyes stumbled through a hasty prayer. Fully a minute
passed, and the suspense was growing intolerable, when with a loud oath an
old gentleman rose to his feet and walked briskly up to the bag.

"Have a care, sir! For Heaven's sake have a care!" cried Mr Bunker; but
the old gentleman merely bent over the terrible object, and, picking it
up, exclaimed in bewildered wrath, "It's my bag! Who the devil brought it
here, and what's the meaning of this d--d nonsense?"

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" roared Mr Bunker; while like sheepish mushrooms the
people sprang up on all sides.

"My dear sir," said Mr Bunker, coming up to the old gentleman, and raising
his hat with his most affable air, "permit me to congratulate you on
recovering your lost property, and allow me further to introduce my friend
the Baron Rudolph von Blitzenberg."

"Baron von damned-humbug!" cried the old gentleman. "Did you take my bag,
sir? and if so, are you a thief or a lunatic?"

For an instant even Mr Bunker himself seemed a trifle taken aback; then he
replied politely, "I am not a thief, sir."

"Then what _'ave_ you been doing?" demanded the sergeant.

"Merely demonstrating to my friend the Baron the extraordinary vigilance
of the English police."

For a time neither the old gentleman nor the sergeant seemed quite capable
of taking the same view of the episode as Mr Bunker, and, curiously
enough, the Baron seemed not disinclined to let his friend extricate
himself as best he could. No one, however, could resist Mr Bunker, and
before very long he and the Baron were driving up Bishopsgate Street
together, with the old gentleman's four-wheeler lumbering in front of
them.

"Well, Baron, are you satisfied with your morning's instruction?" asked
his friend.

"A German nobleman is not used to be in soch a position," replied the
Baron, stiffly.

"You must admit, however, that the object-lesson in the detection of
anarchy was neatly presented."

"I admit nozing of ze kind," said the Baron, stolidly.