atural
expression of a grateful heart for a really important service; but I
cared nothing about that. She blushed as I looked at her, and stooped
to pat the jealous and impatient Dumps.

"Sit here, darling, on this easy-chair," said Mrs McTougall; "you know
the doctor allows you only half an hour--or an hour at most--to-night;
you may be up longer to-morrow. There; and you are not to speak much,
remember.--Mr Mellon, you must address yourself to me. Lilly is only
allowed to listen.

"Yes, as you truly said, Mr Mellon," continued the good lady, who was
somewhat garrulous, "her descent was rough, and indeed, so was mine.
Oh! I shall never forget that rough monster into whose arms you thrust
me that awful night; but he was a brave and strong monster too. He just
gathered me up like a bundle of clothes, and went crashing down the
blazing stair, through fire and smoke--and through bricks and mortar
too, it seemed to me, from the noise and shocks. But we came out safe,
thank God, and I had not a scratch, though I noticed that my monster's
hair and beard were on fire, and his face was cut and bleeding. I can't
think how he carried me so safely."

"Ah! the firemen have a knack of doing that sort of thing," said I,
speaking to Mrs McTougall, but looking at Lilly Blythe.

"So I have heard. The brave, noble men," said Lilly, speaking to Mrs
McTougall, but looking at me.

I know not what we conversed about during the remainder of that hour.
Whether I talked sense or nonsense I cannot tell. The only thing I am
quite sure of is that I talked incessantly, enthusiastically, to Mrs
McTougall, but kept my eyes fixed on Lilly Blythe all the time; and I
know that Lilly blushed a good deal, and bent her pretty head frequently
over her "darling Pompey," and fondled him to his heart's content.

That night my leg violently resented the treatment it had received.
When I slept I dreamed that I was on the rack, and that Miss Blythe,
strange to say, was the chief tormentor, while Dumps quietly looked on
and laughed--yes, deliberately laughed--at my sufferings.

CHAPTER NINE.

ON THE SCENT, BUT PUZZLED.

It was a considerable time after the fire before my leg permitted me to
resume my studies and my duties among the poor. Meanwhile I had become
a regularly-established inmate of Mr Dobson's house, and was
half-jocularly styled "Dr McTougall's assistant."

I confess that I had some hesitation at first in accepting such gener