ile there's that mercantile
cut upon him which would make you happy to give him credit for five
hundred pound, don't you see the salt sea shining on him too?'

'YOU do, I dare say,' returned Miss Abbey, 'but I don't. And as for
stewarding, I think it's time my brother gave that up, and took his
House in hand on his sister's retiring. The House will go to pieces if
he don't. I wouldn't sell it for any money that could be told out, to a
person that I couldn't depend upon to be a Law to the Porters, as I have
been.'

'There you're right, Miss,' said Mr Inspector. 'A better kept house is
not known to our men. What do I say? Half so well a kept house is not
known to our men. Show the Force the Six Jolly Fellowship Porters,
and the Force--to a constable--will show you a piece of perfection, Mr
Kibble.'

That gentleman, with a very serious shake of his head, subscribed the
article.

'And talk of Time slipping by you, as if it was an animal at rustic
sports with its tail soaped,' said Mr Inspector (again, a subject which
nobody had approached); 'why, well you may. Well you may. How has it
slipped by us, since the time when Mr Job Potterson here present, Mr
Jacob Kibble here present, and an Officer of the Force here present,
first came together on a matter of Identification!'

Bella's husband stepped softly to the half-door of the bar, and stood
there.

'How has Time slipped by us,' Mr Inspector went on slowly, with his eyes
narrowly observant of the two guests, 'since we three very men, at an
Inquest in this very house--Mr Kibble? Taken ill, sir?'

Mr Kibble had staggered up, with his lower jaw dropped, catching
Potterson by the shoulder, and pointing to the half-door. He now cried
out: 'Potterson! Look! Look there!' Potterson started up, started back,
and exclaimed: 'Heaven defend us, what's that!' Bella's husband stepped
back to Bella, took her in his arms (for she was terrified by the
unintelligible terror of the two men), and shut the door of the little
room. A hurry of voices succeeded, in which Mr Inspector's voice was
busiest; it gradually slackened and sank; and Mr Inspector reappeared.
'Sharp's the word, sir!' he said, looking in with a knowing wink. 'We'll
get your lady out at once.' Immediately, Bella and her husband were
under the stars, making their way back, alone, to the vehicle they had
kept in waiting.

All this was most extraordinary, and Bella could make nothing of it but
that John was in the right