hing from me."

[Illustration: "There is something forming over you."]

Mrs. Gimpson, aghast at such omniscience, sank backward in her chair.

"Speak," said the old man, gently; "there is no reason why you should be
sacrificed for others."

Mrs. Gimpson was of the same opinion, and in some haste she reeled off
the events of the evening. She had a good memory, and no detail was
lost.

"Strange, strange," said the venerable Mr. Silver, when he had finished.
"He is an ingenious man."

"Isn't it true?" inquired his listener. "He says he can prove it. And
he is going to find out what you meant by saying you were afraid of
making mischief."

"He can prove some of it," said the old man, his eyes snapping
spitefully. "I can guarantee that."

"But it wouldn't have made mischief if you had told us that," ventured
Mrs. Gimpson. "A man can't help being cast away."

"True," said the astrologer, slowly; "true. But let them come and
question me; and whatever you do, for your own sake don't let a soul know
that you have been here. If you do, the danger to yourself will be so
terrible that even I may be unable to help you."

Mrs. Gimpson shivered, and more than ever impressed by his marvellous
powers made her way slowly home, where she found the unconscious Mr.
Boxer relating his adventures again with much gusto to a married couple
from next door.

"It's a wonder he's alive," said Mr. Jem Thompson, looking up as the old
woman entered the room; "it sounds like a story-book. Show us that cut
on your head again, mate."

The obliging Mr. Boxer complied.

"We're going on with 'em after they've 'ad sup-per," continued Mr.
Thompson, as he and his wife rose to depart. "It'll be a fair treat to
me to see old Silver bowled out."

Mrs. Gimpson sniffed and eyed his retreating figure disparagingly; Mrs.
Boxer, prompted by her husband, began to set the table for supper.

It was a lengthy meal, owing principally to Mr. Boxer, but it was over at
last, and after that gentleman had assisted in shutting up the shop they
joined the Thompsons, who were waiting outside, and set off for Crowner's
Alley. The way was enlivened by Mr. Boxer, who had thrills of horror
every ten yards at the idea of the supernatural things he was about to
witness, and by Mr. Thompson, who, not to be outdone, persisted in
standing stock-still at frequent intervals until he had received the
assurances of his giggling better-half that he would not be mad