Never mind what she has! They're in awful danger, but his is the worst,
because he's in danger from her too."

"Like me from you--the woman _I_ love? If he's in the same funk as me--"

"He's in a worse one. He's not only afraid of the lady--he's afraid of
other things."

Mr. Mudge selected another chocolate-cream. "Well, I'm only afraid of
one! But how in the world can you help this party?"

"I don't know--perhaps not at all. But so long as there's a chance--"

"You won't come away?"

"No, you've got to wait for me."

Mr. Mudge enjoyed what was in his mouth. "And what will he give you?"

"Give me?"

"If you do help him."

"Nothing. Nothing in all the wide world."

"Then what will he give _me_?" Mr. Mudge enquired. "I mean for waiting."

The girl thought a moment; then she got up to walk. "He never heard of
you," she replied.

"You haven't mentioned me?"

"We never mention anything. What I've told you is just what I've found
out."

Mr. Mudge, who had remained on the bench, looked up at her; she often
preferred to be quiet when he proposed to walk, but now that he seemed to
wish to sit she had a desire to move. "But you haven't told me what _he_
has found out."

She considered her lover. "He'd never find _you_, my dear!"

Her lover, still on his seat, appealed to her in something of the
attitude in which she had last left Captain Everard, but the impression
was not the same. "Then where do I come in?"

"You don't come in at all. That's just the beauty of it!"--and with this
she turned to mingle with the multitude collected round the band. Mr.
Mudge presently overtook her and drew her arm into his own with a quiet
force that expressed the serenity of possession; in consonance with which
it was only when they parted for the night at her door that he referred
again to what she had told him.

"Have you seen him since?"

"Since the night in the Park? No, not once."

"Oh, what a cad!" said Mr. Mudge.

CHAPTER XX

It was not till the end of October that she saw Captain Everard again,
and on that occasion--the only one of all the series on which hindrance
had been so utter--no communication with him proved possible. She had
made out even from the cage that it was a charming golden day: a patch of
hazy autumn sunlight lay across the sanded floor and also, higher up,
quickened into brightness a row of ruddy bottled syrups. Work was slack
and the place in general empty; the to