rently thought worth taking, and placed it in the pocket
of her pink silk /peignoir/.

Then George having first secured the remainder of the bottle of
brandy, which he slipped into his capacious pocket, they started, and
drove to Liverpool Street. Such a spectacle as the Tiger upon the
platform George was wont in after days to declare he never did see.
But it can easily be imagined that a fierce, dissolute, hungry-looking
woman, with half-dyed hair, who had drunk as much as was good for her,
dressed in a hat made of shabby peacock feathers, dirty white shoes,
an ulster with some buttons off, and a gorgeous but filthy pink silk
tea-gown, presented a sufficiently curious appearance. Nor did it lose
strength by contrast with that of her companion, the sober and
melancholy-looking George, who was arrayed in his pepper-and-salt
Sunday suit.

So curious indeed was their aspect that the people loitering about the
platform collected round them, and George, who felt heartily ashamed
of the position, was thankful enough when once the train started. From
motives of economy he had taken her a third-class ticket, and at this
she grumbled, saying that she was accustomed to travel, like a lady
should, first; but he appeased her with the brandy bottle.

All the journey through he talked to her about her wrongs, till at
last, what between the liquor and his artful incitements, she was
inflamed into a condition of savage fury against Mr. Quest. When once
she got to this point he would let her have no more brandy, seeing
that she was now ripe for his purpose, which was of course to use her
to ruin the man who would ruin the house he served.

Mr. Quest, sitting in state as Clerk to the Magistrates assembled in
Quarter Sessions at the Court House, Boisingham, little guessed that
the sword at whose shadow he had trembled all these years was even now
falling on his head. Still less did he dream that the hand to cut the
thread which held it was that of the stupid bumpkin whose warning he
had despised.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES

At last the weary journey was over, and to George's intense relief he
found himself upon the platform at Boisingham. He was a pretty tough
subject, but he felt that a very little more of the company of the
fair Edithia would be too much for him. As it happened, the station-
master was a particular friend of his, and the astonishment of that
wor