Mr. Brown, against his better judgment, but compelled by her attractions, said, "It's a bet!"

After this momentous decision there was a silence. The lady sank back in her seat and began to meditate with a pleased smile. Henry Brown, a whirl of conflicting emotions, looked gaily out into the street. It was depressing to the view, wet, dirty and forbidding; but to him it was the antechamber of Paradise. At last he was by way of realizing his ideal: his frequent failures and persistent struggles were presently to be crowned with fulfilment. In a burst of n.o.ble emotion he resolved to give the cabman a sovereign. He turned his head once more to look at his charmer and caught sight of a little white hand lying carelessly on the seat. It suggested a happy idea; and with a respectful tenderness he lifted it and pressed it warmly.

"Oh! you must not!"

"Beg pardon!" he said, though he was sensible enough not to drop the hand; "it was this romance idea that put it into my head. I hope you don't mind."

"But we are not promised!"

"On Trust, eh?" he said cheerfully. "Well, I suppose I must wait till I can say Paid For. You've been thinking of some scheme to try me, haven't you?"

"The scheme is ready," she replied gravely. "I was wondering whether you are strong enough to obey. It may mean danger...."

"Fourteen stone and in fair training," he said complacently.

"Ridicule...."

"I shan't be laughed at more than once."

"Perhaps ... prison."

"Crumbs!" observed Henry Brown, stiffening. "My dear--beg pardon--miss, I mean. You're not one of them anarchists?"

"No. I have done nothing wrong. Only, events might put you in a false position. You might be accused and be obliged to be silent. Would you flinch from prison in a good cause?"

For a disgraceful moment Henry Brown wished to say, "The cause be blowed," but happily his eyes met hers. Innocence, reinforced by pretty features, has an easy prey in besotted experience. She lowered her lashes in virginal confusion and appeal. "I'll do it!" said Henry Brown, setting his teeth. "That is, if you're on the square."

She clapped her hands.

"Oh, thank you! thank you! I promise that I am on the square. Really, I am a victim.... What I want you to do is to become, for a short time, a kind of detective."

"A detective!"

"An amateur. If you can leave the guidance of your business to another for a time."

Her hand touched his again, possibly by accident.

"N--yes," he said, determined. "Yes, I mean--yes."

"I shall tell you the story another time. For the present I shall say that it has to do with some papers. I may ask you to follow and watch a man. I may ask you to get back for me the doc.u.ments. I may--I do not know. It may even be necessary for you to leave London for a brief s.p.a.ce. For the present we can do nothing, but will you hold yourself in readiness to act at a word--a sign--a telegram from me?"

Things were developing more rapidly than Henry Brown liked, but he was a man of his word and--she was a delightful creature.

"I will."

"Thank you," she breathed, and this time plainly pressed his hand. He seized it and returned the pressure, feeling like a knight of the middle ages. (Or a middle-aged knight?) "And you are content to do this without reasons--explanations?"

"If you'll give me one excuse," he said craftily.

"_Bitte?_"

"I don't know what they call it in your language," said Henry, and hesitated. A shred of bashfulness still hung about him, but he was growing up fast--expanding like a flower beneath the sun. "May I explain?" he asked courageously.

"But certainly!"

So Henry kissed her.

"For that excuse," he whispered with a new-found eloquence, "I'd do more than you ask."

She laughed and imprinted a feather upon his cheek.

"So you have a soul after all!" she said happily. "I congratulate you and ... myself."

The last word was inaudible; indeed it was not meant for the new henchman of Romance.

CHAPTER VII

MR. HEDDERWICK'S FIRST ADVENTURE

"Alicia, my dear," said Robert Hedderwick to his wife, as he was smoking after dinner, "shall we talk about our annual holiday?"

His wife, a determined lady of forty-five--six years younger than he,--put down her knitting.

"By all means, Robert, if you wish. But I do not know what there is to discuss. It is not yet July and we never go away till August, so there is plenty of time."

"But why should we not go away in July this year?" he suggested, somewhat diffidently.

"Why should we?"

"Well ... it would be a change...."

"A most undesirable and unnecessary change," said his wife decisively, picking up her knitting again. "August is the hottest month, and August in London would be unbearable. Besides, change for the mere sake of change is childish. You might as well suggest our going somewhere else than Cromer."

"Well ... er ..." said Mr. Hedderwick nervously, "why shouldn't we?

Cromer is a charming place--charming; but we have been there twelve years running. Don't you think----"

"Cromer suits my health. And yours," Alicia added after a moment's thought. "And mother would be disappointed if we didn't go. You don't seem to have thought of that."

Her husband opened his mouth to say "I have, my dear," but changed the words to "Oh ... ah ... yes ... of course." Then he got up, walked to the window in rather an aimless fashion, and stared out. Presently he began to whistle.

"Please do not whistle, Robert," said Alicia reprovingly. "You know I can not endure it."

"I beg your pardon," said Robert submissively. "I forgot."