ld have made a
brave picture. The dirt of his person, however, was a scandal.
I told him that Mr. Trapp had walked over and taken the ferry to
Cremyll, where his boat was fitting out for the summer. "But Mrs.
Trapp is washing-up at the back. Shall I call her?"

"God forbid!" said he. "I am not come to listen, but to speak."

I asked him then if I could take a message.

"As wine in a leaky vessel, so is a message committed to a child.
Two of my chimneys need to be swept."

"I can remember that, sir," said I.

He eyed me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. "Yes; you will
remember," he said, as if somehow he had satisfied himself. Yet his
eyes continued to search me. "You have not swept my chimneys
before?"

"I have been working for Mr. Trapp almost three years," said I
demurely.

"Yes, I have seen your face. But I do not often have my chimneys
swept: it is dreadful waste of money. The soot, now--your master and
I cannot agree about it. I say that the soot is mine, that I made
it, in my own chimney, with my own fuel; therefore it should be my
property, but your master claims it. Five years ago I left my
chimneys un-swept while I argued this; but one of them took fire, and
so I lost my soot, and the Corporation fined me five shillings.
It was terrible." He fell back a pace and studied me again.
"If my brother Aaron could see your face, boy, he would want to paint
it and you might make money."

"Where does he live, sir?" I asked.

"Eh? Good boy--good boy! He lives in Lisbon, in the Ghetto off the
Street of the Four Evangelists." He laughed, high up in his nose, at
my discomfiture. "If you ever meet him, mention my name: but first
of all tell your master I shall expect him at five o'clock to-morrow
morning." He wished me good night and shuffled away down the alley,
still laughing at his joke.

At five o'clock next morning, or a little before, Mr. Trapp and I
started for the house. The Barbican had not yet awaked to business.
Its frowzy blinds were down, and out on the Pool nothing moved but a
fishing-boat sweeping in upon the first of the flood.

At the entrance of Southside Street, however, we almost overtook a
soldier walking towards the town. He walked slowly and with a very
slight limp, but seemed to quicken his pace a little, and kept ahead
of us. The barracks being full just then, many soldiers had their
billets about the town, and that one should be abroad at such an hour
was