e so little to remove the mystery in which Tom's
new engagement was involved, and had done so much to thicken it, that
neither could help smiling at the puzzled looks of the other. They
agreed, however, that the introduction of Tom to his new office and
office companions could hardly fail to throw a light upon the subject;
and therefore postponed its further consideration until after the
fulfillment of the appointment they had made with Mr Fips.

After looking at John Westlock's chambers, and devoting a few spare
minutes to the Boar's Head, they issued forth again to the place of
meeting. The time agreed upon had not quite come; but Mr Fips was
already at the Temple Gate, and expressed his satisfaction at their
punctuality.

He led the way through sundry lanes and courts, into one more quiet and
more gloomy than the rest, and, singling out a certain house, ascended
a common staircase; taking from his pocket, as he went, a bunch of rusty
keys. Stopping before a door upon an upper story, which had nothing
but a yellow smear of paint where custom would have placed the
tenant's name, he began to beat the dust out of one of these keys, very
deliberately, upon the great broad handrail of the balustrade.

'You had better have a little plug made,' he said, looking round at Tom,
after blowing a shrill whistle into the barrel of the key. 'It's the
only way of preventing them from getting stopped up. You'll find the
lock go the better, too, I dare say, for a little oil.'

Tom thanked him; but was too much occupied with his own speculations,
and John Westlock's looks, to be very talkative. In the meantime Mr Fips
opened the door, which yielded to his hand very unwillingly, and with a
horribly discordant sound. He took the key out, when he had done so, and
gave it to Tom.

'Aye, aye!' said Mr Fips. 'The dust lies rather thick here.'

Truly, it did. Mr Fips might have gone so far as to say, very thick.
It had accumulated everywhere; lay deep on everything, and in one part,
where a ray of sun shone through a crevice in the shutter and struck
upon the opposite wall, it went twirling round and round, like a
gigantic squirrel-cage.

Dust was the only thing in the place that had any motion about it. When
their conductor admitted the light freely, and lifting up the heavy
window-sash, let in the summer air, he showed the mouldering furniture,
discoloured wainscoting and ceiling, rusty stove, and ashy hearth, in
all their inert negl