as so bewildered that she could
hardly realize the significance of the remark.

"Who are you?" she said. "Why is it that you treat me in this cruel
way?"

"Ah, now we come to business," he said, in a satisfied way, crossing his
legs, and blowing great wreaths from his pipe. "This is more like
reason. Who am I? says you. Well, my name's Stevens--Bill Stevens,
hesquire, o' Claxton, in the county o' Hants. I've been an A.B. in the
navy, and I've got my pension to show it. I've been in the loon'cy
business, too--was second warder in the suicide ward at Portsmouth for
more'n two year. I've been out of a billet for some time, and Muster
Girdlestone he came to me and he says, 'You're William Stevens,
hesquire?' says he. 'I am,' says I. 'You've had experience o'
loonies?' says he. 'I have,' says I. 'Then you're the man I want,'
says he. 'You shall have a pound a week an' nothing to do.' 'The very
crib for me,' says I. 'You've got to sit at the gate,' says he, 'and
prevent a patient from gettin' out!' That was all as he said. Then you
comes down from Lunnon, an' I comes up from Claxton, and here we be, all
snug an' comfort'ble. So, you see, missy, it ain't no use at all, and
you'll never get out this way."

"But if you let me past he will think that I ran by so quickly that you
could not stop me. He could not be very angry then, and I shall give
you more money than you would lose."

"No, no," said the man, shaking his head energetically, "I'm true to my
colours, sink me, but I am! I never was bribed yet, and never will be
unless you can offer cash down instead o' promises. You can't lay them
by to live on in your old age."

"Alas!" Kate cried, "I have no money except these few shillings."

"Give them over here, then." He put them in his trouser pocket beside
the other one. "That's all right, missy," he said, in a beery whisper.
"I won't say anything now to Muster Girdlestone about this job.
He'd be wild if he knew, but mum's the word with William Stevens,
hesquire. Lor', if this ain't my wife a-comin' out wi' my dinner!
Away with ye, away! If she seed me a-speakin' to you she'd tear your
hair for you as like as not. She's jealous, that's what's the matter
wi' her. If she sees a woman makin' much o' me, it's just pisen to her,
and she goes for 'em straight. She's the one to make the fur fly!
Away with you, I say!"

Poor Kate, appalled by the possibility of making a new enemy, turned and
retrace