ade haste to provide. "You will oblige me by paying no attention
to 'Siah. Well, as I was saying, it's a mercy the Lord has made you the
man you be; for we're in want of your help, all four of us."

"If I can be of service,"--Mr. Joshua murmured.

"I remember," said Mrs. Purchase, arranging her bonnet with an air of one
coming to business, "when I was a little girl, reading in a history book
about a man called Bucket, who fell in love with a black woman in foreign
parts; or she may have been brown or whitey-brown for all I can remember
at this distance of time. But, anyway, he was parted from her, and came
home to London here, and all she knew about him was his name 'Bucket.'
Well, she took ship and kept on saying 'Bucket' till somewhere in London
she found him. And if that happened once, it ought to be able to happen
again, especially in these days of newspapers, and when we've got the
address."

Mrs. Purchase produced a crumpled slip of paper, and handed it to Mr.
Joshua, who adjusted his spectacles.

"An institution for the blind, and near Bexley, apparently."
He glanced up in mild interrogation.

"What sort of place is it? Nice goings-on there, I'll promise you; and if
'tis better than penal servitude I shall be surprised, seeing that Sam
Rosewarne is hand-in-glove with it. Never you mind, my dear," she added,
turning to Myra, who shivered, holding her hand. "We'll get him out of
it, or there's no law in England."

Mr. Joshua, still hopelessly fogged, wheeled his chair round to the
bookcase behind him, and took down a Directory, with a smaller reference
work upon Hospitals and Charitable Institutions.

"H'm," said he, coming to a halt as he turned the pages; "here it
is--'Huntingdon Orphanage for the Blind'--'mainly supported by voluntary
contributions'--address, 52 Conyers Road, Bexley, S.E. It seems to have
an influential list of patrons, mainly Dissenters, as I should guess."

"It may keep 'em," said Mrs. Purchase, "so long as you get that poor child
out of it."

"My dear lady, if you would be more explicit!" cried Mr. Joshua.
"To what poor child do you allude? And what is the help you ask of me?"

"If the worst comes to the worst, you can denounce 'em." Mrs. Purchase
untied her bonnet strings, and then slowly crossed her legs--an unfeminine
habit of hers. "Tis like a story out of a book," she pursued. "This very
morning as we was moored a little above Deptford in the _Virtuous Lady_--
that'