Ransome," said he, in a voice that became
suddenly as feeble as his body, "but this fearful night has changed me.
Miraculously preserved from destruction, I have renounced my errors, and
vowed to lead a new life. Conduct me at once to a clergyman, that I may
confess and repent, and disown my past life with horror; then swear me
in a special constable, and let me have the honor of acting under
your orders, and of co-operating with you, sir" (to Little), "in your
Christian and charitable acts. Let me go about with you, gentlemen, and
relieve the sufferings of others, as you have relieved mine."

"There," said Ransome, proudly; "there's a man for you. He knows
every move of the game--can patter like an archbishop." So saying, he
handcuffed the Shifty with such enthusiasm that the convert swore a
horrible oath at him.

Ransome apologized, and beckoning a constable, handed him the Shifty.

"Take him to the Town Hall, and give him every comfort. He is Number
One."

This man's escape was not so strange as it appeared. The flood never
bombarded his house--he was only on the hem of it. It rose and filled
his house, whereupon he bored three holes in his great chest, and got
in. He washed about the room till the abating flood contracted, and then
it sucked him and his box out of the window. He got frightened, and
let the lid down, and so drifted about till at last he floated into the
hands of justice.

Little and Ransome carried the child away, and it was conveyed to the
hospital and a healthy nurse assigned it.

Ransome prevailed on Little to go home, change his wet clothes and lie
down for an hour or two. He consented, but first gave Ransome an
order to lay out a thousand pounds, at his expense, in relief of the
sufferers.

Then he went home, sent a message to Raby Hall, that he was all right,
took off his clothes, rolled exhausted into bed, and slept till the
afternoon.

At four o'clock he rose, got into a hansom, and drove up to Woodbine
Villa, the happiest man in England.

He inquired for Miss Carden. The man said he believed she was not up,
but would inquire.

"Do," said Little. "Tell her who it is. I'll wait in the dining-room."

He walked into the dining-room before the man could object, and there
he found a sick gentleman, with Dr. Amboyne and a surgeon examining him.
The patient lay on a sofa, extremely pale, and groaning with pain.

One glance sufficed. It was Frederick Coventry.

CHAPTER XLVII.