Our journey's end was not quite what I had thought it would be, but it
was novel and interesting enough. We seemed to have thoroughly got to
the town. Very old houses with feeble lights in their paper-patched
windows made strange reflections on the river. The pier looked dark
and dirty even by moonlight, and threw blacker and stranger shadows
still.

Mr. Rowe was busy and tired, and--we thought--a little inclined to be
cross.

"I wonder where we shall sleep!" said Fred, looking timidly up at the
dark old houses.

I have said before that I find it hard work to be very brave after
dark, but I put a good face on the matter, and said I dared say old
Rowe would find us a cheap bedroom.

"London's an awful place for robbers and murders, you know," said
Fred.

I was hoping the cold shiver running down my back was due to what the
barge-master called "the damps from the water"--when a wail like the
cry of a hurt child made my skin stiffen into goose-prickles. A wilder
moan succeeded, and then one of the windows of one of the dark houses
was opened, and something thrown out which fell heavily down. Mr. Rowe
was just coming on board again, and I found courage in the emergency
to gasp out, "What was that?"

"Wot's wot?" said Mr. Rowe testily.

"That noise and the falling thing."

"Somebody throwing, somethin' at a cat," said the barge-master. "Stand
aside, sir, _if_ you please."

It was a relief, but when at length Mr. Rowe came up to me with his
cap off, in the act of taking out his handkerchief, and said, "I
suppose you're no richer than you was yesterday, young gentlemen--how
about a bed?"--I said, "No--o. That is, I mean if you can get us a
cheap one in a safe--I mean a respectable place."

"If you leaves a comfortable 'ome, sir," moralized the barge-master,
"to go a-looking for adventures in this fashion, you must put up with
rough quarters, and wot you can get."

"We'll go anywhere you think right, Mr. Rowe," said I diplomatically.

"I knows a waterman," said Mr. Rowe, "that was in the Royal Navy like
myself. He lives near here, and they're decent folk. The place is a
poor place, but you'll have to make the best of it, young gentlemen,
and a shilling 'll cover the damage. If you wants supper you must pay
for it. Give the missis the money, and she'll do the best she can, and
bring you the change to a half-farthing."

My courage was now fully restored, but Fred was very much overwhelmed
by the roughness of