Hereupon Gurwood and his friend plunged into an animated conversation about railway accidents and their consequences, to the intense interest and horror of Mrs Tipps.

Meanwhile Netta left the room, and went to her old nurse's apartment.

"Nurse," she said, hurriedly, "when did you say you proposed paying your brother in London a visit--about this time, was it not?"

"Yes, dear," said old Mrs Durby, taking off her tortoise-sh.e.l.l spectacles and laying down her work, "I thought of going next week, if it is quite convenient."

"It _is_ quite convenient, nurse," continued Netta, in a somewhat flurried manner; "it would be still more convenient if you could go to-morrow or next day."

"Deary me--what's wrong?" inquired Mrs Durby, in some surprise.

"Listen, I have not time to explain much," said Netta, earnestly, sitting down beside her faithful nurse and putting her hand on her shoulder. "We have got into difficulties, nurse--temporary difficulties, I hope--but they must be got over somehow. Now, I want you to take this diamond ring to London with you--p.a.w.n it for as much as you can get, and bring me the money."

"Me p.a.w.n it, my dear! I never p.a.w.ned a thing in my life, and don't know how to go about it."

"But your brother knows how to do it," suggested Netta. "Now, you won't refuse me this favour, dear nurse? I know it is an unpleasant business, but what else can be done? The ring is my own; besides, I hope to be able to redeem it soon. I know no more about p.a.w.ning than yourself, but I do know that a considerable time must elapse before the ring shall be lost to me. And, you know, our bills _must_ be paid."

Good Mrs Durby did not require much persuasion. She consented to set off as soon as possible, if she should obtain permission from Mrs Tipps, who was aware that she had intended to visit her brother about that time. She received the precious ring, which, for security, was put into a pill-box; this was introduced into an empty match-box, which Netta wrapped in a sheet of note-paper and put Mrs Durby's name on it.

For further security Mrs Durby enlarged the parcel by thrusting the match-box into an old slipper, the heel of which she doubled over the toe, and then wrapped the whole in several sheets of brown paper until the parcel a.s.sumed somewhat the shape and size of her own head. It was also fastened with strong cords, but Mrs Durby's powers of making a parcel were so poor that she left several uncouth corners and ragged ends of paper sticking out here and there. She wrote on it in pencil the simple name--Durby.

Meanwhile Joseph and his friend, having finished luncheon, prepared to set out on their visit to Captain Lee. As they quitted the house, Tipps ran back to the door and called his sister out of the parlour.

"I say, Netta, what about this fifty pounds that mother was talking of?"

he said. "Do you mean to say that you are really short of that sum, and in debt?"

"We are, but I see a way out of the difficulty. Don't distress yourself, Joe; we shall have everything squared up, as you call it in a few days."

"Are you _quite_ sure of that?" asked Tipps, with a doubting look. "You know I have got an uncommonly cheap lodging, and a remarkably economical landlady, who manages so splendidly that I feed on a mere trifle a week.

Seventy-five pounds a year, you know, is more than I know what to do with. I can live on thirty-five or so, and the other forty is--"

"We don't require it Joe," said Netta, laughing. "There, go away, you are giving me cold by keeping me in the pa.s.sage, and your friend is getting impatient."

She pushed him out, nodded, and shut the door. Tipps hastened after his friend, apologised for the delay, and, stepping out smartly, they were soon ushered into Captain Lee's drawing-room. The captain was writing.

Emma was seated near the window sewing.

"Ha! Tipps, my fine fellow, glad to see you; why, I was just thinking of you," said the captain, extending his hand.

"I have called," began Tipps, bowing to Emma and shaking the captain's hand, "to introduce my--my--eh!--ah, my--what's the matter?"

There was some reason for these exclamations, for Captain Lee stood gazing in mute amazement at young Gurwood, while the latter returned the compliment with his eyebrows raised to the roots of his hair. The similarity of their expressions did not, however, last long, for Edwin became gradually confused, while the captain grew red and choleric-looking.

"So," said the latter at length, in a very stern voice, "_this_ is your friend, Mr Tipps?"

"Sir," exclaimed Edwin, flushing crimson, "you ought not to condemn any one unheard."

"_I_ do not condemn you, sir," retorted the captain.

"By word, no, but by look and tone and gesture you do."

"Captain Lee," exclaimed Tipps, who had stood perfectly aghast with amazement at this scene, "what _do_ you mean?--surely."

"I mean," said the captain, "that this youth was taken up by one of our own detectives as a thief, some weeks ago, and was found travelling in a first-cla.s.s carriage without a ticket."

Young Gurwood, who had by this time recovered his self-possession, turned to his friend and said,--"Explain this matter, Tipps, you know all about it. The only point that can puzzle you is, that I did not know the name of Captain Lee when I travelled with him, and therefore did not connect him with the gentleman to whom you said you meant to introduce me."

Tipps drew a long breath.

"Oh," said he, "I see it all now. Why, Captain Lee, my friend is _perfectly_ innocent. It was quite a mistake, I a.s.sure you; and the best proof of it is that he is a personal friend of our police superintendent, who was on the spot at the time the accident occurred, but we were all thrown into such confusion at the time, that I don't wonder things were not cleared up."

Tipps hereupon went into a detailed account of the matter as far as he knew it, at first to the surprise and then to the amus.e.m.e.nt of Captain Lee. Fortunately for Gurwood, who would have found it difficult to explain the circ.u.mstance of his travelling without a ticket, the captain was as prompt to acknowledge his erroneous impression as he had been to condemn. Instead of listening to Tipps, he stopped him by suddenly grasping Gurwood's hand, and thanking him heartily for the prompt and able a.s.sistance he had rendered in rescuing his daughter from her perilous position on the day of the accident.

Of course Edwin would not admit that "rescue" was the proper term to apply to his action, and refused to admit that Miss Lee was in the slightest degree indebted to him, at the same time a.s.suring her and her father that it had afforded him the highest possible pleasure to have been of the slightest service to them. The end of it was that they all became extremely good friends, and the captain in particular became quite jocular in reference to mistakes in general and stealing in particular, until Tipps, pulling out his watch, declared that procrastination was the thief of time, and that as he happened to have business to transact with the police superintendent in reference to the very accident which had caused them all so much trouble, he must unwillingly bid them adieu.

"Stay, Tipps," exclaimed the captain, rising, "I shall accompany you to the station, and introduce our friend Gurwood to the scene of his future labours, where," continued the captain, turning with a hearty air and patronising smile to Edwin, "I hope you will lay the foundation of a career which will end in a manager's or secretary's situation, or some important post of that sort. Good-bye, Emma I'll not be back till dinner-time."

Emma bowed to the young men, and said good-bye to her father with a smile so ineffably captivating, that Edwin resolved then and there to lay the foundation of a career which would end in a wife with nut-brown hair and large l.u.s.trous eyes.

Poor Edwin! He was not the first man whose wayward spirit had been chained, his impulses directed to good ends and aims, and his destiny fixed, by the smile of an innocent, loving, pretty girl. a.s.suredly, also, he was not the last!

CHAPTER TEN.

SHARP PRACTICE.

Standing with his back to the fireplace, his legs slightly apart, his hands in his pockets, and his eyes fixed on the ceiling, Mr Sharp, Police Superintendent of the Grand National Trunk Railway, communed with himself and dived into the future.

Mr Sharp's powers of diving were almost miraculous. He had an unusually keen eye for the past and the present, but in regard to the future his powers were all but prophetic. He possessed a rare capacity for following up clues; investigating cases; detecting falsehoods, not only of the lip, but of the eye and complexion; and, in a word, was able to extract golden information out of the most unpromising circ.u.mstances.

He was also all but ubiquitous. Now tracking a suspicion to its source on his own line in one of the Midland counties; anon comparing notes with a brother superintendent at the terminus of the Great Western, or Great Northern, or South-Eastern in London. Sometimes called away to give evidence in a county court; at other times taking a look in at his own home to kiss his wife or dandle his child before dashing off per express to follow up a clue to John O'Groats or the Land's End. Here, and there, and everywhere--calm, self-possessed, and self-contained, making notes in trains, writing reports in his office, making discoveries and convictions, and sometimes making prisoners with his own hands by night and day, with no fixed hours for work, or rest, or meals, and no certainty in anything concerning him, save in the uncertainty of his movements, Mr Sharp with his myrmidons was the terror of evil doers, and, we may truly add, the safeguard of the public.

Little did that ungrateful public know all it owed to the untiring watchfulness and activity of Mr Sharp and his men. If he and his compeers were to be dismissed from our lines for a single week, the descent of a host of thieves and scoundrels to commit wide-spread plunder would teach the public somewhat severely how much they owe to the efficient management of this department of railway business, and how well, constantly and vigilantly--though un.o.btrusively--their interests are cared for.

But to return. Mr Sharp, as we have said stood communing with himself and diving into the future. Apparently his thoughts afforded him some amus.e.m.e.nt, for his eyes twinkled slightly, and there was a faintly humorous twist about the corners of his mouth.

David Blunt sat at a desk near him, writing diligently. Against the wall over his head hung a row of truncheons. Besides the desk, a bench, two or three wooden chairs, and a chest, there was little furniture in the room.

Blunt's busy pen at length ceased to move, and Sharp looked at him.

"Well, Blunt," he said, "I see nothing for it but to make a railway porter of you."

"By all means, sir," said Blunt, with a smile, laying down his pen.

"Gorton station," continued Sharp, "has become a very nest of thieves.

It is not creditable that such a state of things should exist for a week on our line. They have managed things very cleverly as yet. Five or six bales of cloth have disappeared in the course of as many days, besides several loaves of sugar and half-a-dozen cheeses. I am pretty sure who the culprits are, but can't manage to bring it home to them, so, as I have said, we must convert you into a porter. You have only been once engaged on this part of the line--that was at the accident when you were so hard on poor Mr Gurwood, so that none of the Gorton people will know you. I have arranged matters with our pa.s.senger superintendent. It seems that Macdonell, the station-master at Gorton, has been complaining that he is short-handed and wants another porter.

That just suits us, so we have resolved to give you that responsible situation. You will get a porter's uniform from--"

At this point Mr Sharp was interrupted by the door opening violently, and a detective in plain clothes entering with a stout young man in his grasp.

"Who have we here?" asked Mr Sharp.