l as man could be. He disengaged himself deliberately
from the farmer's grip, put the table between them, and went smoothly on
with the further observation he had to make!

"I repeat, according to the landlady, whose word we have no reason to
doubt, his wife is with him--and his mother!"

Sharp struck the table and roared that it was impossible. I stood in
hopeless bewilderment.

"Would it be decent to intrude at such a moment?"

"Decent!" Sharp was frantically endeavouring to button up his coat.

"D--n it, decent! Which is the way? My girl--my poor girl!"

"Show him," I contrived to say to Hanger, and he took the landlady's
directions, while I passed my arm through Reuben Sharp's. We stumbled
and blundered along in Hanger's footsteps, round muddy corners, past
heaps of yellow ore, Sharp muttering and cursing and gesticulating by
the way. We came suddenly to a halt at the little green door of a
four-roomed cottage.

"Knock! knock!" Sharp shouted, pressing with his whole weight against
the door. "Let me see her!--the villain!--Mounseer Glendore!--No, no,
Herbert Daker!"

The power of observation is at its quickest in moments of intense
excitement. I remember looking with the utmost calmness at Sharp's face
and figure, as he stood gasping before the door of Herbert Daker's
lodging. It was the head of a satyr in anger.

"Daker--Herbert Daker!" Sharp cried.

The door was suddenly thrown open, and an English clergyman, unruffled
and full of dignity, stood in the entrance. Sharp was a bold, untutored
man; but he dared not force his way past the priest.

"Quiet, gentlemen--be quiet. Step in--but quiet--quiet."

We were in the chamber of Matthew Glendore in a moment. A lady rose from
the bedside. Humble, and yet stately, a white face with red and swollen
eyelids, eyes with command in them. We were uncovered, and in an instant
wholly subdued.

"My child--my girl!" Reuben Sharp moaned.

The clergyman approached him, and laid his hand upon him.

"Whom do you want?"

"Mrs. Daker--my--"

The pale lady, full of grief, advanced a step, and looking full in the
face of Reuben Sharp, said, "I, sir, am Mrs. Daker."

I had never seen that lady before.

"You!" Sharp shouted, shaking with rage.

But the minister firmly laid his hand upon him now, saying, "Hush! in
the chamber of death! His mother is at his bedside; spare her."

At this, a little figure with a ghastly face rose from the farther side
of the bed.

"