t, sir. Have I a father?" I asked, scarcely able to say the
word "father."

"Yes, not only a father, but a mother, brothers and sisters," he
replied.

"Oh...."

He touched a bell and a clerk appeared whom he told to take charge of
us.

"Oh, I had forgotten," said Mr. Greth, "your name is Driscoll; your
father's name is Mr. John Driscoll."

In spite of Mr. Greth's ugly face I think I could have jumped at him and
hugged him if he had given me time, but with his hand he indicated the
door and we followed the clerk.

CHAPTER XXVI

BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT

When we got to the street the clerk hailed a cab and told us to jump in.
The strange looking vehicle, with the coachman sitting on a box at the
back of a hood that covered us, I learned later was a hansom cab. Mattia
and I were huddled in a corner with Capi between our legs. The clerk
took up the rest of the seat. Mattia had heard him tell the coachman to
drive us to Bethnal-Green. The driver seemed none too anxious to take us
there. Mattia and I thought it was probably on account of the distance.
We both knew what "Green" meant in English, and Bethnal-Green
undoubtedly was the name of the park where my people lived. For a long
time the cab rolled through the busy streets of London. It was such a
long way that I thought perhaps their estate was situated on the
outskirts of the city. The word "green" made us think that it might be
in the country. But nothing around us announced the country. We were in
a very thickly populated quarter; the black mud splashed our cab as we
drove along; then we turned into a much poorer part of the city and
every now and again the cabman pulled up as though he did not know his
way. At last he stopped altogether and through the little window of the
hansom a discussion took place between Greth & Galley's clerk and the
bewildered cabman. From what Mattia could learn the man said that it was
no use, he could not find his way, and he asked the clerk which
direction he should take. The clerk replied that he did not know for he
had never been in that thieves' locality before. We both caught the word
"thieves." Then the clerk gave some money to the coachman and told us to
get out of the cab. The man grumbled at his fare and then turned round
and drove off. We were standing now in a muddy street before what the
English call a gin palace. Our guide looked about him in disgust, then
entered the swing-doors of the gin palace. We followed.