up. The red-eyed assistant listened, and shook his
head. Then the boy, without another word, shouldered his bag and
departed, on his way to the next second-hand book-shop.

He was followed, at a decent interval, by another caller. This time it
was an old gentleman who opened the door, put in his head, and looked
about him with a quick and suspicious glance. At sight of the
assistant he nodded and smiled in the most friendly way possible, and
came in.

"Good-morning, Mr. James; good-morning, my friend. Splendid weather.
Pray don't disturb yourself. I am just having a look round--only a
look round, you know. Don't move, Mr. James."

He addressed Mr. James, but he was looking at the shelves as he spoke,
and, with the habit of a book-hunter, taking down the volumes, looking
at the title-pages and replacing them; under his arm he carried a
single volume in old leather binding.

Mr. James nodded his head, but did disturb himself; in fact, he rose
with a scowl upon his face, and followed this polite old gentlemen all
round the shop, placing himself close to his elbow. One might almost
suppose that he suspected him, so close and assiduous was his
assistance. But the visitor, accepting these attentions as if they
were customary, and the result of high breeding, went slowly round the
shelves, taking down book after book, but buying none. Presently he
smiled again, and said that he must be moving on, and very politely
thanked Mr. James for his kindness.

"Nowhere," he was so good as to say, "does one get so much personal
kindness and attention as at Emblem's. Good-morning, Mr. James;
good-morning, my friend."

Mr. James grunted; and closed the door after him.

"Ugh!" he said with disgust, "I know you; I know your likes. Want to
make your set complete--eh? Want to sneak one of our books to do it
with, don't you? Ah!" He looked into the back shop before he returned
to his paste and his slips. "That was Mr. Potts, the great Queen Anne
collector, sir. Most notorious book-snatcher in all London, and the
most barefaced. Wanted our fourth volume of the 'Athenian Oracle.' I
saw his eyes reached out this way, and that way, and always resting on
that volume. I saw him edging along to the shelf. Got another odd
volume just like it in his wicked old hand, ready to change it when I
wasn't looking."

"Ah," said Mr. Emblem, waking up from his dream of Iris and her
father's letter; "ah, they will try it on. Keep your eyes open,
James."