rous vivacity that when
he ceased the two laughed together as if nothing more amusing had ever
been heard.

'Ah, but my books, my books!' exclaimed Biffen, with a genuine groan.
'And all my notes! At one fell swoop! If I didn't laugh, old friend, I
should sit down and cry; indeed I should. All my classics, with years of
scribbling in the margins! How am I to buy them again?'

'You rescued "Mr Bailey." He must repay you.'

Biffen had already laid the manuscript on the table; it was dirty and
crumpled, but not to such an extent as to render copying necessary.
Lovingly he smoothed the pages and set them in order, then he wrapped
the whole in a piece of brown paper which Reardon supplied, and wrote
upon it the address of a firm of publishers.

'Have you note-paper? I'll write to them; impossible to call in my
present guise.'

Indeed his attire was more like that of a bankrupt costermonger than of
a man of letters. Collar he had none, for the griminess of that he wore
last night had necessitated its being thrown aside; round his throat
was a dirty handkerchief. His coat had been brushed, but its recent
experiences had brought it one stage nearer to that dissolution which
must very soon be its fate. His grey trousers were now black, and his
boots looked as if they had not been cleaned for weeks.

'Shall I say anything about the character of the book?' he asked,
seating himself with pen and paper. 'Shall I hint that it deals with the
ignobly decent?'

'Better let them form their own judgment,' replied Reardon, in his
hoarse voice.

'Then I'll just say that I submit to them a novel of modern life, the
scope of which is in some degree indicated by its title. Pity they can't
know how nearly it became a holocaust, and that I risked my life to save
it. If they're good enough to accept it I'll tell them the story. And
now, Reardon, I'm ashamed of myself, but can you without inconvenience
lend me ten shillings?'

'Easily.'

'I must write to two pupils, to inform them of my change of
address--from garret to cellar. And I must ask help from my prosperous
brother. He gives it me unreluctantly, I know, but I am always loth to
apply to him. May I use your paper for these purposes?'

The brother of whom he spoke was employed in a house of business at
Liverpool; the two had not met for years, but they corresponded,
and were on terms such as Harold indicated. When he had finished his
letters, and had received the half-sovereig