t his occupation, while I had certainly done
my utmost to make him believe that I regarded it without any deep
dislike.

Had I succeeded or not? On the answer to that question my prospects of
escape to a great degree depended. When we reached the house, his manner
undergoing no change, I went to bed more hopefully than usual. During
the morning we had walked round a large block of buildings forming one
shop, with three doors in Oxford Street and two in another street
behind. Now, if I could induce Mr. Parsons to let me enter by one of the
front doors, it would be easy enough to pass through and make an escape
from the rear, for he had never yet accompanied me into a shop.

During the next few days, however, we did not go near Oxford Street; the
first day was wet, so that Mr. Parsons stayed at home, and when the
weather changed, we took a train to Uxbridge, where I succeeded in
exchanging five half-crowns--not without many self-reproaches.

The next day being Sunday, none of us left the house, and I think this
was the most miserable time of all that I spent beneath Mr. Parsons'
roof. I missed the Sunday service, and felt very lonely and helpless. At
last, pretending to be overcome by drowsiness, I asked permission to go
to bed at seven o'clock.

Whether or not it was due to the brightness of the morning, I awoke with
a sense of unaccustomed exhilaration, and something seemed to assure me
that I should find my longed-for opportunity to escape before night.

CHAPTER XIX.

As to what was to happen if I escaped, I had very little idea. Once let
me get away from my present surroundings, and nothing else seemed to
matter; things could not easily become worse. But, as a matter of fact,
I had thought once or twice that I would run the risk of trying to
discover Rogers, Captain Knowlton's servant, who had certainly not
accompanied him on board the _Seagull_. I knew that Captain Knowlton had
given up his rooms before he left England, but still I might succeed in
finding some one who could tell me where Rogers lived, and I felt
certain the man would help me if possible. Hitherto I had determined to
avoid the Albany, thinking that Mr. Turton would take care to anticipate
me, and perhaps make arrangements for my capture, for, in spite of all I
had passed through, I shrank as much as ever from the idea of returning
to Castlemore, and Augustus and the other fellows at Ascot House. Still,
I had in my pocket only the bad ha