Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Arrived there, their first object was to seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the lady's retreat,—a lone habitation, situated on the outskirts of Saint George's Fields in Southwark. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. Which was not to say that ladies were not interested in him. At the sight of her he became rigid and a singularly bright shade of pink. "You're only twenty—not legally of age. This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it.
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