ay,"
said the cabman, "to avoid the rumpus with the homnibuses at the
hill,--cause the ladies' things is so heavy we'd never got up if the
'orse had once jibbed." All which, though it had nothing to do with
the matter, seemed to impress the policeman with the idea that the
cabman, if not a true man, was going to be too clever for them on
this occasion. And the crafty cabman went on to declare that his
horse was so tired with the load that he could not go on to Baker
Street. They must get another cab. Take his number! Of course they
could take his number. There was his number. His fare was four and
six,--that is if the ladies wouldn't pay him anything extra for the
terrible load; and he meant to have it. It would be sixpence more if
they kept him there many minutes longer. The number was taken, and
another cab was got, and the luggage was transferred, and the money
was paid, while the unhappy mother was still screaming in hysterics
against the railings. What had been done was soon clear enough to all
those around her. Nora had told the policeman, and had told one of
the women, thinking to obtain their sympathy and assistance. "It's
the kid's dada as has taken it," said one man, "and there ain't
nothing to be done." There was nothing to be done;--nothing at any
rate then and there.

Nora had been very eager that the cabman should be arrested; but the
policeman assured her that such an arrest was out of the question,
and would have been useless had it been possible. The man would be
forthcoming if his presence should be again desired, but he had
probably,--so said the policeman,--really been desired to drive to
Mowbray Street. "They knows where to find me if they wants me,--only
I must be paid my time," said the cabman confidently. And the
policeman was of opinion that as the boy had been kidnapped on behalf
of the father, no legal steps could be taken either for the recovery
of the child or for the punishment of the perpetrators of the act. He
got up, however, on the box of the cab, and accompanied the party to
the hotel in Baker Street. They reached it almost exactly at the same
time with Sir Marmaduke and Lady Rowley, and the reader must imagine
the confusion, the anguish, and the disappointment of that meeting.
Mrs. Trevelyan was hardly in possession of her senses when she
reached her mother, and could not be induced to be tranquil even when
she was assured by her father that her son would suffer no immediate
evil by