n given, and the ordinary citizens of Ramsgate would at once
be convinced that the man was what he was. Gager had doubtless
considered all the circumstances of his day's work carefully, and had
determined that success would more probably attend him with this than
with any other line of action. He walked at once into the house, and
asked whether a young woman was not lodging there. The man of the
house was behind the bar, with his wife, and to him Gager whispered a
few words. The man stood dumb for a moment, and then his wife spoke.
"What's up now?" said she. "There's no young women here. We don't
have no young women." Then the man whispered a word to his wife,
during which Gager stood among the customers before the bar with an
easy, unembarrassed air. "Well, what's the odds?" said the wife.
"There ain't anything wrong with us."

"Never thought there was, ma'am," said Gager. "And there's nothing
wrong as I know of with the young woman." Then the husband and wife
consulted together, and Mr. Gager was asked to take a seat in a
little parlour, while the woman ran up-stairs for half an instant.
Gager looked about him quickly, and took in at a glance the system
of the construction of the "Fiddle with One String." He did sit down
in the little parlour, with the door open, and remained there for
perhaps a couple of minutes. Then he went to the front door, and
glanced up at the roof. "It's all right," said the keeper of the
house, following him. "She ain't a-going to get away. She ain't just
very well, and she's a-lying down."

"You tell her, with my regards," said Gager, "that she needn't be a
bit the worse because of me." The man looked at him suspiciously.
"You tell her what I say. And tell her, too, the quicker the better.
She has a gentleman a-looking after her, I daresay. Perhaps I'd
better be off before he comes." The message was taken up to the lady,
and Gager again seated himself in the little parlour.

We are often told that all is fair in love and war, and, perhaps,
the operation on which Mr. Gager was now intent may be regarded as
warlike. But he now took advantage of a certain softness in the
character of the lady whom he wished to meet, which hardly seems to
be justifiable even in a policeman. When Lizzie's tall footman had
been in trouble about the necklace, a photograph had been taken
from him which had not been restored to him. This was a portrait of
Patience Crabstick, which she, poor girl, in a tender momen