you will tell me, won't you?"

"Rely upon me, miss," replied Kerry shortly.

He escorted Mollie to her brougham, observed by no less than six
discreetly hidden neighbors. And as the brougham was driven off she
waved her hand to him! Kerry felt a hot flush spreading over his red
countenance, for the veiled onlookers had not escaped his attention. As
he re-entered the house:

"Yon's a bad woman," said his wife, emerging from the dining-room.

"I believe you may be right, Mary," replied Kerry confusedly.

"I kenned it when fairst I set een upon her painted face. I kenned it
the now when she lookit sideways at ye. If yon's a grand lady, she's a
woman o' puir repute. The Lord gi'e us grace."

CHAPTER XXVIII. THE GILDED JOSS

London was fog-bound. The threat of the past week had been no empty
one. Towards the hour of each wintry sunset had come the yellow racks,
hastening dusk and driving folks more speedily homeward to their
firesides. The dull reports of fog-signals had become a part of the
metropolitan bombilation, but hitherto the choking mist had not secured
a strangle-hold.

Now, however, it had triumphed, casting its thick net over the city
as if eager to stifle the pulsing life of the new Babylon. In the
neighborhood of the Docks its density was extraordinary, and the
purlieus of Limehouse became mere mysterious gullies of smoke impossible
to navigate unless one were very familiar with their intricacies and
dangers.

Chief Inspector Kerry, wearing a cardigan under his oilskins, tapped the
pavement with the point of his malacca like a blind man. No glimmer of
light could he perceive. He could not even see his companion.

"Hell!" he snapped irritably, as his foot touched a brick wall, "where
the devil are you, constable?"

"Here beside you, sir," answered P.C. Bryce, of K Division, his guide.

"Which side?"

"Here, sir."

The constable grasped Kerry's arm.

"But we've walked slap into a damn brick wall!"

"Keep the wall on your left, sir, and it's all clear ahead."

"Clear be damned!" said Kerry. "Are we nearly there?"

"About a dozen paces and we shall see the lamp--if it's been lighted."

"And if not we shall stroll into the river, I suppose?"

"No danger of that. Even if the lamp's out, we shall strike the iron
pillar."

"I don't doubt it," said Kerry grimly.

They proceeded at a slow pace. Dull reports and a vague clangor were
audible. These sounds were so deadened by the clammy mist