th the writer's while to run the serious
personal risk which such a disclosure will entail on him. And it ends by
stipulating that the answer shall be advertised in the _Times_; shall
be addressed to "An Unknown Friend"; and shall state plainly what
remuneration Mr. Noel Vanstone offers for the priceless service which it
is proposed to render him.

Unless some unexpected complication occurs, this letter places me
exactly in the position which it is my present interest to occupy. If
the advertisement appears, and if the remuneration offered is large
enough to justify me in going over to the camp of the enemy, over I go.
If no advertisement appears, or if Mr. Noel Vanstone rates my invaluable
assistance at too low a figure, here I remain, biding my time till my
fair relative wants me, or till I make her want me, which comes to
the same thing. If the anonymous letter falls by any accident into her
hands, she will find disparaging allusions in it to myself, purposely
introduced to suggest that the writer must be one of the persons whom
I addressed while conducting her inquiries. If Mrs. Lecount takes
the business in hand and lays a trap for me--I decline her tempting
invitation by becoming totally ignorant of the whole affair the instant
any second person appears in it. Let the end come as it may, here I am
ready to profit by it: here I am, facing both ways, with perfect ease
and security--a moral agriculturist, with his eye on two crops at once,
and his swindler's sickle ready for any emergency.

For the next week to come, the newspaper will be more interesting to me
than ever. I wonder which side I shall eventually belong to?

THE THIRD SCENE.

VAUXHALL WALK, LAMBETH.

CHAPTER I.

THE old Archiepiscopal Palace of Lambeth, on the southern bank of the
Thames--with its Bishop's Walk and Garden, and its terrace fronting the
river--is an architectural relic of the London of former times, precious
to all lovers of the picturesque, in the utilitarian London of the
present day. Southward of this venerable structure lies the street
labyrinth of Lambeth; and nearly midway, in that part of the maze of
houses which is placed nearest to the river, runs the dingy double row
of buildings now, as in former days, known by the name of Vauxhall Walk.

The network of dismal streets stretching over the surrounding
neighborhood contains a population for the most part of the poorer
order. In the thoroughfares where shops abo