n," I said, "and Philip and I
must go to France for awhile. Good-bye! Let mother and Fanny see the
letter in half an hour."

"But wait--thank God, he's not hurt!--France, you say? How? Which
road?"

She was holding my coat lapel, to make me stay and tell her. So I
answered:

"By post to Hastings; there we shall get the Doughty boys to--"

At this, there broke in another voice from above stairs--that of
Fanny:

"Is that Bert, Madge dear?"

"Tell her 'no,'" I whispered, appalled at thought of a leave-taking,
explanations, weeping, and delay. "And for God's sake, let me--ah,
thank you! Read the letter--you shall hear from us--God bless you
all!"

The next moment I was speeding from the house, leaving Madge in a
tumult of thoughts at the door. I turned into Gerrard Street without
looking back; and brisk walking soon brought me to the Strand, where
Philip himself was just ready to take the post-chaise.

"A strange thing delayed me," said he, as we forthwith took our seats
in the vehicle; which we had no sooner done than the postilions set
the four horses going and our journey was begun.

"What was it?" I asked, willing to reserve the account of my interview
with Madge till later.

"The most remarkable thing, for me to witness on this particular
morning," he replied; and told me the story as we rattled through
Temple Bar and Fleet Street, on our way to the bridge and the Surrey
side. "After I left you, I don't know what it was that kept me from
coming through St. Martin's Lane to the Strand, and made me continue
East instead. But something did; and finally I turned to come through
Bow Street. When I was nearly in front of the magistrate's house, a
post-chaise stopped before it, and a fellow got out whom I took to be
a Bow Street runner. Several people ran up to see if he had a prisoner
in the chaise, and so the footway was blocked; and I stopped to look
on for a moment with the rest. A man called out to the constable,
'What you got, Bill?' The constable, who had turned around and reached
into the chaise, stopped to look at the speaker, and said, 'Nobody
much--only the Soho Square assault and robbery--I ran him down at
Plymouth, waiting for a vessel--he had a mind to travel for his
health.' The constable grinned, and the other man said, 'Sure that's a
hanging business, and no mistake!'"

"And so it is," said I, interrupting Philip. "I read of the affair at
the time. A fellow named Howard knocked down his landla