as he
finished, he leaned over her, and took up her hand in his.

"Laws, Robinson!" she said; but she did not on the moment withdraw
her hand. "And if you were both blew up, what'd I do then?"

"I won't hear of such an arrangement," said Mr. Brown. "It would be
very wicked. If there's another word spoke about it, I'll go to the
police at once!"

On that occasion Mr. Brown was quite determined about the money; and,
as we heard afterwards, Mr. Brisket expressed himself as equally
resolute. "Of course, I expect to see my way," said he; "I can't do
anything of that sort without seeing my way." When that overture
about the gunpowder was repeated to him, he is reported to have
become very red. "Either with gloves or without, or with the sticks,
I'm ready for him," said he; "but as for sitting on a barrel of
gunpowder, it's a thing as nobody wouldn't do unless they was in
Bedlam."

When that interview was over, Robinson walked forth by himself into
the evening air, along Giltspur Street, down the Old Bailey, and so
on by Bridge Street, to the middle of Blackfriars Bridge; and as he
walked, he strove manfully to get the better of the passion which was
devouring the strength of his blood, and the marrow of his bones.

"If she be not fair for me," he sang to himself, "what care I how
fair she be?" But he did care; he could not master that passion.
She had been vile to him, unfeminine, untrue, coarsely abusive; she
had shown herself to be mercenary, incapable of true love, a scold,
fickle, and cruel. But yet he loved her. There was a gallant feeling
at his heart that no misfortune could conquer him,--but one; that
misfortune had fallen upon him,--and he was conquered.

"Why is it," he said as he looked down into the turbid stream--"why
is it that bloodshed, physical strife, and brute power are dear to
them all? Any fool can have personal bravery; 'tis but a sign of
folly to know no fear. Grant that a man has no imagination, and he
cannot fear; but when a man does fear, and yet is brave--" Then for
awhile he stopped himself. "Would that I had gone at his throat like
a dog!" he continued, still in his soliloquy. "Would that I had!
Could I have torn out his tongue, and laid it as a trophy at her
feet, then she would have loved me." After that he wandered slowly
home, and went to bed.

CHAPTER VIII.

MR. BRISKET THINKS HE SEES HIS WAY, AND MR. ROBINSON AGAIN WALKS ON
BLACKFRIARS BRIDGE.

For some half-hour on that