and--mark my words!--is moving at the instigation of the
murderer."

"I should be very sorry to think so," said Pitman; "but I still consider
it my duty to Mr. Semitopolis...."

"Pitman," interrupted Michael, "this will not do. Don't seek to impose
on your legal adviser; don't try to pass yourself off for the Duke of
Wellington, for that is not your line. Come, I wager a dinner I can read
your thoughts. You still believe it's Uncle Tim."

"Mr. Finsbury," said the drawing-master, colouring, "you are not a man
in narrow circumstances, and you have no family. Guendolen is growing
up, a very promising girl--she was confirmed this year; and I think you
will be able to enter into my feelings as a parent when I tell you she
is quite ignorant of dancing. The boys are at the board school, which is
all very well in its way; at least, I am the last man in the world to
criticise the institutions of my native land. But I had fondly hoped
that Harold might become a professional musician; and little Otho shows
a quite remarkable vocation for the Church. I am not exactly an
ambitious man...."

"Well, well," interrupted Michael. "Be explicit; you think it's Uncle
Tim?"

"It might be Uncle Tim," insisted Pitman, "and if it were, and I
neglected the occasion, how could I ever look my children in the face?
I do not refer to Mrs. Pitman...."

"No, you never do," said Michael.

"... but in the case of her own brother returning from Ballarat ..."
continued Pitman.

"... with his mind unhinged," put in the lawyer.

"... returning from Ballarat with a large fortune, her impatience may be
more easily imagined than described," concluded Pitman.

"All right," said Michael, "be it so. And what do you propose to do?"

"I am going to Waterloo," said Pitman, "in disguise."

"All by your little self?" inquired the lawyer. "Well, I hope you think
it safe. Mind and send me word from the police cells."

"O, Mr. Finsbury, I had ventured to hope--perhaps you might be induced
to--to make one of us," faltered Pitman.

"Disguise myself on Sunday?" cried Michael. "How little you understand
my principles!"

"Mr. Finsbury, I have no means of showing you my gratitude; but let me
ask you one question," said Pitman. "If I were a very rich client, would
you not take the risk?"

"Diamond, Diamond, you know not what you do!" cried Michael. "Why, man,
do you suppose I make a practice of cutting about London with my clients
in disguise? Do you suppos