y handicapped by inability to employ contentious
formulas, gave a detailed account of his visit to The Pigeons. He
identified the convict by short lengths of speech, addressed to Mr.
Wardle's ear alone, suggestive of higher understandings of the affairs
of men than aunts and mothers could expect to share. "Party that's
givin' trouble to the Police ... Party I mentioned seeing in Hy' Park
... Party that come down the Court inquirin' for widder lady ..." came
at intervals. Micky's respectful and subdued reference to Mrs. Prichard
was a tribute to Death.

"And did he say her son told him, to his own hearing?... All right,
M'riar, I know what I'm talking about." This was to stop Aunt M'riar's
interposing with a revelation of old Maisie's relation to the party. It
would have encumbered cross-examination; which, even if it served no
particular end, would seem profound and weighty.

"That's how I took it from him," said Micky.

"Didn't he say who her son was?" Aunt M'riar persisted, with unflinching
simplicity.

Micky, instantly illuminated, replied:--"Not he! He never so much as
said he wasn't her son, hisself." This did not mean that affirmation was
usually approached by denial of every possible negation. It was only the
involuntary echo of a notion Aunt M'riar's manner had clothed her words
with.

"That was tellings, M'riar," said Uncle Mo. "But it don't make any odds,
that I can see. Look ye here, young Micky! What was it this charackter
said about coming here this afternoon?"

"Werry first words I heard him say! 'No safety like a thick fog,' he
says. 'And I'll pay her a visit this very arternoon,' he says. Only he
won't! You may take that off me, like Gospel."

"How do you make sure of that, young master?"

"'Cos he's got nothing to come for, now I've took his message for him.
If he hadn't had reliance, he'd not have arxed me to carry it. He knows
me for safe, by now, Mr. Wardle."

"Don't you see, Mo," said Aunt M'riar. "He'd no call to come here,
exceptin'. It was only to oblige-like, and let know. Once Micky gave his
word, what call had he to come four mile through such a fog?"

"That's the whole tale, then?" said Uncle Mo, after reflection. "Onlest
you can call to mind something you've forgot, Master Micky."

"Not a half a word, Mr. Moses. If there had a been, I'd have made you
acquainted, and no lies. And all I said's ackerate, and to rely on."
Which was perfectly true, so far as reporter's good faith wen