y spoke low, "this woman--"

Mrs. Beedle drew back towards the cellar-kitchen steps.

"There's police outside," she shrilled. "Young Master Loristan, order
him to stand back."

"No one will hurt you," said Marco. "If you have the money here,
Lazarus, please give it to me."

Lazarus literally ground his teeth. But he drew himself up and saluted
with ceremony. He put his hand in his breast pocket and produced an
old leather wallet. There were but a few coins in it. He pointed to a
gold one.

"I obey you, sir--since I must--" he said, breathing hard. "That one
will pay her for the week."

Marco took out the sovereign and held it out to the woman.

"You hear what he says," he said. "At the end of this week if there is
not enough to pay for the next, we will go."

Lazarus looked so like a hyena, only held back from springing by chains
of steel, that the dusty Mrs. Beedle was afraid to take the money.

"If you say that I shall not lose it, I'll wait until the week's
ended," she said. "You're nothing but a lad, but you're like your
father. You've got a way that a body can trust. If he was here and
said he hadn't the money but he'd have it in time, I'd wait if it was
for a month. He'd pay it if he said he would. But he's gone; and two
boys and a fellow like that one don't seem much to depend on. But I'll
trust YOU."

"Be good enough to take it," said Marco. And he put the coin in her
hand and turned into the back sitting-room as if he did not see her.

The Rat and Lazarus followed him.

"Is there so little money left?" said Marco. "We have always had very
little. When we had less than usual, we lived in poorer places and
were hungry if it was necessary. We know how to go hungry. One does
not die of it."

The big eyes under Lazarus' beetling brows filled with tears.

"No, sir," he said, "one does not die of hunger. But the insult--the
insult! That is not endurable."

"She would not have spoken if my father had been here," Marco said.
"And it is true that boys like us have no money. Is there enough to
pay for another week?"

"Yes, sir," answered Lazarus, swallowing hard as if he had a lump in
his throat, "perhaps enough for two--if we eat but little. If--if the
Master would accept money from those who would give it, he would alway
have had enough. But how could such a one as he? How could he? When
he went away, he thought--he thought that--" but there he stopped
himself suddenly.

"