nto a small parlour within;
the attendant who came in response to a ring showed no astonishment at
her presence; he also seemed to know exactly what she required, which
was a certain brand of gin, sweetened, and warm. And Spargo watched her
curiously as with shaking hand she pushed up the veil which hid little
of her wicked old face, and lifted the glass to her mouth with a zest
which was not thirst but pure greed of liquor. Almost instantly he saw
a new light steal into her eyes, and she laughed in a voice that grew
clearer with every sound she made.

"Ah, young man!" she said with a confidential nudge of the elbow that
made Spargo long to get up and fly. "I wanted that! It's done me good.
When I've finished that, you'll pay for another for me--and perhaps
another? They'll do me still more good. And you'll give me a little
matter of money, won't you, young man?"

"Not till I know what I'm giving it for," replied Spargo.

"You'll be giving it because I'm going to tell you that if it's made
worth my while I can tell you, or somebody that sent you, more about
Jane Baylis than anybody in the world. I'm not going to tell you that
now, young man--I'm sure you don't carry in your pocket what I shall
want for my secret, not you, by the look of you! I'm only going to show
you that I have the secret. Eh?"

"Who are you?" asked Spargo.

The woman leered and chuckled. "What are you going to give me, young
man?" she asked.

Spargo put his fingers in his pocket and pulled out two
half-sovereigns.

"Look here," he said, showing his companion the coins, "if you can tell
me anything of importance you shall have these. But no trifling, now.
And no wasting of time. If you have anything to tell, out with it!"

The woman stretched out a trembling, claw-like hand.

"But let me hold one of those, young man!" she implored. "Let me hold
one of the beautiful bits of gold. I shall tell you all the better if I
hold one of them. Let me--there's a good young gentleman."

Spargo gave her one of the coins, and resigned himself to his fate,
whatever it might be.

"You won't get the other unless you tell something," he said. "Who are
you, anyway?"

The woman, who had begun mumbling and chuckling over the
half-sovereign, grinned horribly.

"At the boarding-house yonder, young man, they call me Mother Gutch,"
she answered; "but my proper name is Mrs. Sabina Gutch, and once upon a
time I was a good-looking young woman. And when my husband