o shrink back
from any thing. If I can spare you, I will. If not, you must not be
ashamed to show yourself."

"I am never ashamed to show myself. But I would rather not go to that
place at all. If things should prove to be as I begin to think, I had
better withdraw from the whole of it, and only lament that I ever began.
My father was right; after all, my father was wise; and I ought to have
known it. And perhaps Uncle Sam knew the truth, and would not tell me,
for fear of my rushing to the Yosemite. Cabman, please to turn the horse
and go in the opposite direction." But the Major pulled me back, and the
driver lifted his elbow and said, "All right."

"Erema," the Major began, quite sternly, "things are gone a little
too far for this. We are now embarked upon a most important
investigation"--even in my misery I could scarce help smiling at his
love of big official words--"an investigation of vast importance. A
crime of the blackest dye has been committed, and calmly hushed up, for
some petty family reason, for a period of almost twenty years. I am not
blaming your father, my dear; you need not look so indignant. It is
your own course of action, remember, which has led to the present--the
present--well, let us say imbroglio. A man of honor and an officer of
her Majesty's service stands now committed at your request--mind, at
your own request--"

"Yes, yes, I know; but I only meant you to--to go as far as I should
wish."

"Confidential instructions, let us say; but there are times when duty
to society overrides fine feeling. I have felt that already. The die
is cast. No half-and-half measures, no beating about the bush, for me.
After what I saw yesterday, and the light that burst upon me, I did not
act hastily--I never do, though slow coaches may have said so. I put
this and that together carefully, and had my dinner, and made up my
mind. And you see the result in that man on the box."

"The cabman? Oh yes, you resolved to have a cab, and drive to those
wicked informers."

"Where are your eyes? You are generally so quick. This morning you are
quite unlike yourself--so weak, so tearful, and timorous. Have you not
seen that by side of the cabman there sits another man altogether? One
of the most remarkable men of the age, as your dear Yankees say."

"Not a policeman in disguise, I hope. I saw a very common, insignificant
man. I thought he was the driver's groom, perhaps."

"Hush! he hears every thing, even on this