uld find him! Why, he _must_ find him!

Across the sea in London, Minister Livingstone slept, full fed with the
flatteries of a day, dreaming of the pleasures and honors sure to come
with the morning. Down in the prison town lived Honora, with her eyes
dulled from watching the jail and her heart sore with longing. For Owen
the prison, for Louis the pavement, for Honora and himself the sleepless
hours of the aching heart; but for the responsible Minister and his
responsible tool sweet sleep, gilded comfort, overwhelming honors. Such
things could be only because men of his sort were craven idiots. What a
wretched twist in all things human! Why not, if nothing else could be
done, go and set fire to Claire's office, the bishop's house, and the
Livingstone mansion?

However, joy came at the end of the night, for the messenger brought
word that the lad had been found, sound as a bell, having just shipped
as a common sailor on an Indiaman. Since Curran could not persuade him
to leave his ship, the detective had remained on the vessel to await
Arthur's arrival. A cab took him down to the wharf, and a man led him
along the dock to the gang-plank, thence across the deck to a space near
the forecastle, where Curran sat with Louis in the starlight.

"Then it's all true ... what he has been telling me?" Louis cried as he
leaped to his feet and took the hearty grasp of his friend.

"As true as gospel," said Arthur, using Judy's phrase. "Let's get out of
this without delay. We can talk about it at home. Curran, do you settle
with the captain."

They hurried away to the cab in silence. Before entering Arthur wrung
the hand of the detective warmly.

"It would take more than I own to pay you for this night's work, Curran.
I want you to know how I feel about it, and when the time comes ask your
own reward."

"What you have just said is half of it," the man answered in a strange
tone. "When the time comes I shall not be bashful."

"It would have been the greatest blunder of your life," Arthur said, as
they drove homeward, "if you had succeeded in getting away. It cannot be
denied, Louis, that from five o'clock this afternoon till now you made a
fool of yourself. Don't reply. Don't worry about it. Just think of this
gold-plate fact: no one knows anything about it. You are supposed to be
sleeping sweetly at my house. I settled Claire beautifully. And Sister
Magdalen, too. By the way, I must send her word by the cabby ... better
let