Part 43 (1/2)

”Now, Mrs b.u.t.t, I expect to stay here for two or three weeks--perhaps longer. My name is Brooke. I was advised to come here by a gentleman in the offices of the City Mission. I shall have no visitors--being utterly unknown in this neighbourhood--except, perhaps, the missionary who parted from me at the door--”

”Mr Stansfield, sir?” said the landlady.

”Yes. You know him?”

”I've knowed 'im for years, sir. I shall only be too pleased to 'ave any friend of 'is in my 'ouse, I a.s.sure you.”

”That's well. Now, Mrs b.u.t.t, my motive in coming here is to discover a runaway relation--”

”La! sir--a little boy?”

”No, Mrs b.u.t.t, a--”

”_Surely_ not a little _gurl_, sir,” said the landlady, with a sympathetic expression.

”It is of no consequence what or who the runaway relation is, Mrs b.u.t.t; I merely mention the fact in order that you may understand the reason of any little eccentricity you may notice in my conduct, and not perplex your mind about it. For instance, I shall have no regular hours--may be out late or early--it may be even all night. You will give me a pa.s.s-key, and I will let myself in. The only thing I will probably ask for will be a cup of tea or coffee. Pray let me have one about an hour hence. I'm going out at present. Here is a week's rent in advance.”

”Shall I put on a fire, sir?” asked Mrs b.u.t.t.

”Well, yes--you may.”

”Toast, sir?”

”Yes, yes,” said Charlie, opening the outer door.

”'Ot or cold, sir?”

”'Ot, and _b.u.t.tered_,” cried Charlie, with a laugh, as he shut the door after him and rendered further communication impossible.

Wending his way through the poor streets in the midst of which his lodging was situated, our hero at last found an old-clothes store, which he entered.

”I want a suit of old clothes,” he said to the owner, a Jew, who came forward.

The Jew smiled, spread out his hands after the manner of a Frenchman, and said, ”My shop, sir, is at your disposal.”

After careful inspection Charlie selected a fustian coat of extremely ragged appearance, with trousers to match, also a sealskin vest of a mangy complexion, likewise a soiled and battered billyc.o.c.k hat so shockingly bad that it was difficult to imagine it to have ever had better days at all.

”Are they clean?” he asked.

”Bin baked and fumigated, sir,” answered the Jew solemnly.

As the look and smell of the garments gave some countenance to the truth of this statement, Charlie paid the price demanded, had them wrapped up in a green cotton handkerchief, and carried them off.

Arrived at his lodging he let himself in, entered his room, and threw the bundle in a corner. Then he rang for tea.

It was growing dark by that time, but a yellow-cotton blind shut out the prospect, and a cheery fire in the grate lighted up the little room brightly, casting a rich glow on the yellow-white table-cloth, which had been already spread, and creating a feeling of coziness in powerful contrast to the sensation of dreariness which had a.s.sailed him on his first entrance. When Mrs b.u.t.t had placed a paraffin lamp on the table, with a dark-brown teapot, a thick gla.s.s sugar-bowl, a cream-jug to match, and a plate of thick-b.u.t.tered toast that scented the atmosphere deliciously, our hero thought--not for the first time in his life--that wealth was a delusion, besides being a snare.

”`One wants but little here below,'” he mused, as he glanced round the apartment; ”but he wants it longer than _that_,” thought he, as his eyes wandered to the ancient sofa, which was obviously eighteen inches too short for him.

”I 'ope you've found 'im, sir,” said Mrs b.u.t.t anxiously, as she was about to retire.