t a respectable man you want in your present predicament. It's a
Rogue--like me."

Magdalen laughed, bitterly.

"There is some truth in that," she said. "Thank you for recalling me
to myself and my circumstances. I have my end to gain--and who am I, to
pick and choose the way of getting to it? It is my turn to beg pardon
now. I have been talking as if I was a young lady of family and
position. Absurd! We know better than that, don't we, Captain Wragge?
You are quite right. Nobody's child must sleep under Somebody's
roof--and why not yours?"

"This way," said the captain, dexterously profiting by the sudden change
in her humor, and cunningly refraining from exasperating it by saying
more himself. "This way."

She followed him a few steps, and suddenly stopped.

"Suppose I _am_ discovered?" she broke out, abruptly. "Who has any
authority over me? Who can take me back, if I don't choose to go? If
they all find me to-morrow, what then? Can't I say No to Mr. Pendril?
Can't I trust my own courage with Miss Garth?"

"Can you trust your courage with your sister?" whispered the captain,
who had not forgotten the references to Norah which had twice escaped
her already.

Her head drooped. She shivered as if the cold night air had struck her,
and leaned back wearily against the parapet of the wall.

"Not with Norah," she said, sadly. "I could trust myself with the
others. Not with Norah."

"This way," repeated Captain Wragge. She roused herself; looked up at
the darkening heaven, looked round at the darkening view. "What must be,
must," she said, and followed him.

The Minster clock struck the quarter to eight as they left the Walk on
the Wall and descended the steps into Rosemary Lane. Almost at the same
moment the lawyer's clerk from London gave the last instructions to his
subordinates, and took up his own position, on the opposite side of the
river, within easy view of Mr. Huxtable's door.

CHAPTER II.

CAPTAIN WRAGGE stopped nearly midway in the one little row of houses
composing Rosemary Lane, and let himself and his guest in at the door of
his lodgings with his own key. As they entered the passage, a care-worn
woman in a widow's cap made her appearance with a candle. "My niece,"
said the captain, presenting Magdalen; "my niece on a visit to York. She
has kindly consented to occupy your empty bedroom. Consider it let, if
you please, to my niece--and be very particular in airing the sheets?
Is Mrs. Wragge ups