l but forsaken; the church rose black against the grey
sky, and the lofty places of business round about were darkly silent. A
man's footstep sounded in front of him, and a figure approached along
the narrow path between the high bars. Hilliard would have passed
without attention, but the man stopped his way.

"Hollo! Here we are again!"

He stared at the speaker, and recognised Mr. Dengate.

"So you've come back?"

"Where from?" said Hilliard. "What do you know of me?"

"As much as I care to," replied the other with a laugh. "So you haven't
quite gone to the devil yet? I gave you six months. I've been watching
the police news in the London papers."

In a maddening access of rage, Hilliard clenched his fist and struck
fiercely at the man. But he did no harm, for his aim was wild, and
Dengate easily warded off the blows.

"Hold on! You're drunk, of course. Stop it, my lad, or I'll have you
locked up till Monday morning. Very obliging of you to offer me the
pleasure I was expecting, but you _will_ have it, eh?"

A second blow was repaid in kind, and Hilliard staggered back against
the railings. Before he could recover himself, Dengate, whose high hat
rolled between their feet, pinned his arms.

"There's someone coming along. It's a pity. I should enjoy thrashing
you and then running you in. But a man of my position doesn't care to
get mixed up in a street row. It wouldn't sound well at Liverpool.
Stand quiet, will you!"

A man and a woman drew near, and lingered for a moment in curiosity.
Hilliard already amazed at what he had done, became passive, and stood
with bent head.

"I must have a word or two With you," said Dengate, when he had picked
up his hat. "Can you walk straight? I didn't notice you were drunk
before I spoke to you. Come along this way."

To escape the lookers-on, Hilliard moved forward.

"I've always regretted," resumed his companion, "that I didn't give you
a sound thrashing that night in the train. It would have done you good.
It might have been the making of you. I didn't hurt you, eh?"

"You've bruised my lips--that's all. And I deserved it for being such a
damned fool as to lose my temper."

"You look rather more decent than I should have expected. What have you
been doing in London?"

"How do you know I have been in London?"

"I took that for granted when I knew you'd left your work at Dudley."

"Who told you I had left it?"

"What does it matter?"

"I should like to know,