er to raise the woman, and carry her scared and trembling to the
club steps, where Vanleigh stood looking as scared as the sufferer,
while Pratt helped the gentleman to rise.

"Take me away, please; let me go--away," said the woman, shivering with
fear.

"Are you hurt?" said Trevor, with his arm still round her.

"No, no; not hurt--only let me go."

"I couldn't help it, gen'lemen," began the cabman.

"No, confound you!--it was an accident, worse luck!" said the
principal sufferer, "or you should have caught it sharply, Mr
Nine-hundred-and-seventy-six. Here's a pretty mess I'm in!"

"Very sorry, sir," said the cabman,--"but--"

"There, that'll do. Is the lady hurt?"

"No, no," said the woman, hastily, and she glanced timidly at Vanleigh,
and then at Pratt, who was watching her keenly.

Just then a four-wheeler, which Trevor had hailed, came up, and he
handed her in.

"Where shall he drive you?" said Trevor, as he slipped half-a-crown in
the driver's hand.

"Twenty-seven, Whaley's Place, Upper Holloway," said the woman, in an
unnecessarily loud voice; and the cab was driven off.

"Thank you," said the muddy stranger, holding out a very dirty hand to
Trevor, who grasped it heartily.

"Worse disasters at sea," he said, smiling.

"Yes," said the other, looking hard in his face, "so I suppose; but then
you do get an action for damages, or insurance money. I don't insure my
clothes," he said, looking ruefully at his muddy garments, and then at
those of the man who had served him. "I say, that was very kind of you,
though."

"Nonsense!" said Trevor, laughing in the bright, earnest, middle-aged
face before him. "Come into the club, and send for some fresh things."

"Thanks, no," said the stranger, "I'll get back to my rooms. I must
have something out of somebody, so I'll make cabby suffer."

The cabman rubbed his ear, and looked blue.

"You'll drive me home, cabby?" said the stranger.

"That I will, sir, for a week," said the man, eagerly.

"We may as well exchange cards," said the stranger, pulling out a case,
and putting a muddy thumb upon the top card. "There you are--John
Barnard, his mark," he said, laughing. "Thanks once more. I'll stick
your card in here with mine; and now good-bye."

"Good-bye," said Trevor, frankly; and they shook hands.

"I shall know your face again."

Saying which, after a curious stare in Trevor's face, the stranger
climbed into the cab, the driver touched up hi