in caring for the poorest
of the poor in the East-End and in preaching the gospel to them. You've
often seen accounts of her work, no doubt, in the _Christian_?"

"Well--n-no. I read the _Times_, but, now you mention it, I have some
faint remembrance of seeing reference to such matters. Very
self-denying, no doubt, and praiseworthy, though I must say that I doubt
the use of preaching the gospel to such persons. From what I have seen
of these lowest people I should think they were too deeply sunk in
depravity to be capable of appreciating the lofty and sublime sentiments
of Christianity."

Number 666 felt a touch of surprise at these words, though he was too
well-bred a policeman to express his feelings by word or look. In fact,
although not pre-eminently noted for piety, he had been led by training,
and afterwards by personal experience, to view this matter from a very
different standpoint from that of Sir Richard. He made no reply,
however, but, turning round the corner of the Home of Industry, entered
a narrow street which bore palpable evidence of being the abode of
deepest poverty. From the faces and garments of the inhabitants it was
also evidently associated with the deepest depravity.

As little Di saw some of the residents sitting on their doorsteps with
scratched faces, swelled lips and cheeks, and dishevelled hair, and
beheld the children in half-naked condition rolling in the kennel and
extremely filthy, she clung closer to her father's side and began to
suspect there were some phases of life she had never seen--had not even
dreamt of!

What the knight's thoughts were we cannot tell, for he said nothing, but
disgust was more prominent than pity on his fine countenance. Those who
sat on the doorsteps, or lolled with a dissipated air against the
door-posts, seemed to appreciate him at his proper value, for they
scowled at him as he passed. They recognised Number 666, however,
(perhaps by his bearing), and gave him only a passing glance of
indifference.

"You said it would be dangerous for me to come here by myself," said Sir
Richard, turning to Giles, as he entered another and even worse street.
"Are they then so violent?"

"Many of them are among the worst criminals in London, sir. Here is the
court of which you are in search: Roy's Court."

As he spoke, Ned Frog staggered out of his own doorway, clenched his
fists, and looked with a vindictive scowl at the strangers. A second
glance induce