ntered, and went
directly to the open counter instead of availing himself of one of the
dirty, ill-smelling little confessional boxes wherein hapless creatures
confess their poverty to Poverty's Father Confessor, mine uncle.

Producing his tickets, a young Hebrew gentleman at once gave him his
immediate attention, and one by one the articles were brought and
delivered to him, after repayment of the money loaned and interest,
which transaction took four pounds out of the ten he possessed. His
watch and chain were the last to be produced, and as he was winding up
the former, before placing it in his vest pocket, he heard a voice
proceeding from the nearest confessional box, speaking to one of the
assistants, which caused him to start and then listen intently. It was
a voice he remembered well--clear, refined, but tremulous with age.

"I can assure you," it said, "that it was bought in Calcutta fifty
years ago, and cost two hundred rupees."

"Vell, my good sir, it doesn't madder nodings to me vat it cost. I
dell you dot ve don't advance nodings on dose dings. Ve cannot fill up
dis blace mit such rubbish."

"Will you buy it, then? Will you give me three pounds?"

"Vy don't you say dree dousand! Now I dell you vat I vill do, so as to
have no more droubles mit you, ven I have mine pizness to addend--I
vill give five shillings for it."

"Will you, you sweep!" shouted Barry, striking the wooden partition a
blow with the side of his clenched hand; and then to the astonishment
of the pawnbroker and his assistants, and the people in the shop, he
seized his parcel, and pushing open the partition door kicked
vigorously at the "confession box."

"Open the door and come out of this place, Mr. Maynard," he cried--"I'm
Ted Barry!"

In an instant the door was opened, and a little, pale-faced,
white-moustached man came out. A faint cry of astonishment escaped his
lips.

"Come, sir, take my arm," quickly said the seaman, who saw that the old
man was trembling with excitement; "let us get out of this before we
have a crowd round us."

"Yes, yes, Mr. Barry," was the eager reply, "do let us get away. I
feel so upset; and then, too, your voice gave me a shock--no, no, not a
shock, my boy, but a surprise, a pleasant surprise," and he pressed his
arm closely to Barry's. "Rose, poor Rose will be delighted to hear I
have seen you."

"Where is she?" asked Barry quickly.

The old man halted and looked piteously into his face