The next thing was to drive to the nearest public-house, where it did not take many seconds to swallow a pint of six ale. The sandwiches which a careful wife had wrapped in a piece of newspaper, could wait until he had made certain of his good fortune. On reaching Golfney Place, he saw beyond a doubt that the house from which he had driven the young lady and her luggage was a.s.suredly Number 5, and then Mr.

Joseph Botting lost no time in making his way to Upper Grosvenor Street, where the advertis.e.m.e.nt said he was to apply.

Before he had time to get down from his seat Jimmy, having seen him through the dining-room window, came out with his napkin in his hand.

"'Morning, guvnor," said Joseph. "I've come about this 'ere five pound reward."

"You have only to tell me where you left the young lady," replied Jimmy, taking out his pocket-case and temptingly exposing a bank note.

"Well, you see, guvnor, I can't call to mind the address," said Joseph.

"It wasn't a railway station!"

"No," was the answer. "I'll tell you where it was."

"Where?" demanded Jimmy.

"Blackheath," said Dotting. "'Cabman,' she says, 'drive to the Marble Arch.' But when we got there she tells me to go over Westminster Bridge to Blackheath. As soon as we were at the village, as they calls it, she gets out and looks round for a second and then she darts across the road by the cab rank and goes into a sort of registry office. By an' by," Joseph Botting continued, "she comes out agin and tells me to drive on to--blest if I can recollect the name o' the place."

"Could you find your way to the house again?" suggested Jimmy, as Botting took off his cap and rubbed his crown.

"Like a shot, guvnor."

"Jump up, then," said Jimmy. "The moment I hear that the young lady has been at the house you shall have the fiver and a good tip beyond your fare."

"Right you are," cried Botting, and Jimmy, re-entering the hall, spoke a few words of unsatisfactory explanation to Sybil, while he thrust his arms into the sleeves of his motor coat.

When once he was on the way he quickly recovered his customary self-control. Lighting a cigar, he leaned back in the cab and was soon on the Surrey side of Westminster Bridge. He was driven along the dreary length of Walworth Road, to Camberwell Green, through Peckham to Lewisham. From the Lee High Road Joseph Botting turned along a shady thoroughfare to the left, presently reaching Blackheath with Greenwich Park on the farther side, and immediately on the right a row of high, old-fashioned houses.

"Here we are, guvnor!" exclaimed Joseph, applying his brake, and Jimmy was out on the pavement in an instant, across the long front garden, ringing the bell, knocking at the door.

"Miss Rosser?" he asked when it was opened by a middle-aged woman.

"She went out three-quarters of an hour ago," was the answer.

"At what time do you expect her home?" said Jimmy.

"She ordered tea for half-past four," replied the woman.

Jimmy could not wait until half-past four! He looked at his watch and saw there would be more than an hour!

"Can you tell me where she has gone?" he inquired.

"Well, she asked how to find Greenwich Park," said the woman, and as Jimmy turned away from the door he took out his pocket-book. Standing on the pavement he handed a five-pound note, together with the fare from Upper Grosvenor Street and a liberal tip to Joseph Botting, who grinned with delight, then Jimmy crossed the road and struck across the heath. A few children were scampering about, some men were playing at golf on this, the oldest course in England. Entering the park a few minutes later he followed the broad walk, bordered by Spanish chestnut trees, keeping the while a brisk lookout and hesitating whether to take one of the diverging paths to the right or left.

Surely that must be Bridget! She was scarcely to be mistaken, with her slender figure, her rather closely fitting skirt, her wide-brimmed hat, her wealth of chestnut-coloured hair! On Jimmy's left was the observatory, and two or three people were adjusting their watches by the large clock in the wall. She stood close to an iron railing, from which sloped down a gra.s.sy hill, and beyond lay Greenwich Hospital and the Thames; on its farther bank tall chimneys rising from amidst the docks and houses of the Isle of Dogs.

With her back still towards him, her eyes upon the wonderful prospect, she had no suspicion of Jimmy's propinquity until he mentioned her name.

"Bridget!" he whispered, close behind her, and on the instant she turned, her face radiant with joy.

"Oh, I wondered whether you would come!" she cried.

"What else could I do?" he said. "Now I am here, where can we go to talk about the most important subject in the world?"

"Let us," suggested Bridget, "stroll across the gra.s.s!"

They soon reached a secluded spot, and found some chairs near an ancient, ivy-covered tree-trunk, surrounded by an iron fence. The sun was shining brightly, and a fawn, which had strayed from the small herd of fallow deer, left off browsing to gaze. As Jimmy and Bridget sat down it turned and slowly ambled away.

"Why did you choose this particular place of all others?" asked Jimmy.

"Once upon a time," said Bridget, "years and years ago, my aunts used to live at Blackheath."

"I should rather like to take you to them at Sandbay," replied Jimmy.

"I have been there. They are the dearest old ladies, and your proper place seems to be with them--for the present!"

"Oh, I couldn't," she exclaimed. "Especially after what I imagine you have told them about me. I really couldn't go," she said.

"Then you leave me only one alternative," said Jimmy. "I was anxious to do everything decently and in order, but it appears you won't let me."

"You have not asked why I left Golfney Place," suggested Bridget, leaning forward in her chair and digging the ferrule of her sunshade into the turf.

"I fancy I know," said Jimmy. "You lacked courage to face old Faversham."

"Oh, how abominably I treated him!" murmured Bridget.

"There is not the least doubt about it," Jimmy admitted.

"So very, very badly," she continued gravely, with her eyes on the gra.s.s, "that I wonder you took the trouble to find me."

"Do you?" he asked, and as she remained silent for a few moments Jimmy repeated the question. "Do you?" he said.

"Why, no," she cried, raising her head and facing him with a laugh.

"But it is more than I deserve," she added. "Jimmy, I was in great straits. I saw how fast my money was going, that I should have none left in a year or two, and so when Colonel Faversham bothered me to marry him I gave in. I thought I could do it, you know."

"Until I came to undeceive you!" suggested Jimmy.

"Yes," said Bridget; "but I was afraid you might be--be disgusted! I wanted you to know, and yet I didn't. I tried to tell you time after time, and still I couldn't say the word which I thought might drive you away from me. I saw it would be impossible to marry Colonel Faversham, but if I threw him over what should I do in the future? I hesitated and hesitated. I went to Crowborough because I hoped the influence of the place might give me courage; it didn't and I had some wild idea of appealing to Mark for help. That--that wouldn't do, and Colonel Faversham insisted I should tell him when I would be his wife--he talked of our being married within a week or ten days. Oh dear! how hard I tried to make him understand; but I couldn't succeed, and at last in desperation a fresh idea occurred to me: I would run away! I told him to come for his answer the next morning--oh, I know I was horrid to him!"

"Well, we agree about that," said Jimmy. "We are going to agree about everything, you see. I suppose," he added, "you thought you would appeal to me as a sort of forlorn hope?"

"Oh, it was scarcely worth calling a hope," she answered. "You had said so much about truthfulness. You could forgive anything else but deceit, and of course I had deceived you from the beginning."

"So that you love me in the end," he said.

"Ah, Jimmy!" murmured Bridget. "But n.o.body will ever relieve it. They will think I threw Colonel Faversham over because you were the richer.

It is only natural they should say that."

"Let them say what they like," was the answer. "When you told me about your engagement I could do only one thing. I should have liked to ask you to come away with me then and there; but I--well, it couldn't be done, dear. The moment I heard you were free of the colonel, I hadn't a doubt in the world. Bridget, you will have to make up your mind to marry me at once."