ompanies.

In the train Billy had time to reflect on the wickedness of which he had
been guilty, and his heart was torn with conflicting emotions, among
which repentance was perhaps the most powerful. But what, he thought,
was the use of repentance now? The thing was done and could not be
undone.

Could it not? Was it too late to mend? At the Grotto he had been
taught that it was "never too late to mend"--but that it was sinful as
well as dangerous to delay on the strength of that fact; that "_now_ was
the accepted time, _now_ the day of salvation." When Billy thought of
these things, and then looked at the stern inexorable face of the man by
whom he had been enslaved, he began to give way to despair. When he
thought of his good angel Nora, he felt inclined to leap out of the
carriage window and escape or die! He restrained himself, however, and
did nothing until the train arrived in London. Then he suddenly burst
away from his captor, dived between the legs of a magnificent railway
guard, whose dignity and person were overthrown by the shock, eluded the
ticket-collector and several policemen, and used his active little legs
so well that in a few minutes his pursuers lost him in a labyrinth of
low streets not far distant from the station.

From this point he proceeded at a rapid though less furious pace direct
to the Grotto, where he presented himself to the superintendent with the
remark that he had "come back to make a clean breast of it."

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

ON THE SCENT.

Let us change the scene and put back the clock. Ah, how many hearts
would rejoice if it were as easy to return on the track of Time in real
life as it is to do so in a tale!

It was the evening of the day in which Jones and Billy went to sea in
the little boat. Ramsgate, Mr Durant's supper-table, with Stanley Hall
and Robert Queeker as guests.

They were all very happy and merry, for Stanley was recounting with
graphic power some of the incidents of his recent voyage. Mr Durant
was rich enough to take the loss of his vessel with great equanimity--
all the more so that it had been fully insured. Mr Queeker was in a
state of bliss in consequence of having been received graciously by
Fanny, whose soul was aflame with sentiment so powerful that she could
not express it except through the medium of a giggle. Only once had
Fanny been enabled to do full justice to herself, and that was when,
alone with Katie in the mysterious