ld, and who had begun to compose himself for sleep, or to pretend
to compose himself, as soon as he heard Bozzle's voice. He had been
looking at Bozzle, and though he had not discovered the man's trade,
had told himself that his companion was a thing of dangers,--a thing
to be avoided, by one engaged, as had been he himself, on a special
and secret mission.

"Saw you there,--calling at the Clock House," said Bozzle.

"Very likely," said the Colonel, throwing his head well back into the
corner, shutting his eyes, and uttering a slight preliminary snore.

"Very nice family of ladies at the Clock House," said Bozzle. The
Colonel answered him by a more developed snore. "Particularly Mrs.
T----" said Bozzle.

The Colonel could not stand this. He was so closely implicated with
Mrs. Trevelyan at the present moment that he could not omit to notice
an address so made to him. "What the devil is that to you, sir?" said
he, jumping up and confronting Bozzle in his wrath.

But policemen have always this advantage in their difficulties, that
they know to a fraction what the wrath of men is worth, and what it
can do. Sometimes it can dismiss a policeman, and sometimes break
his head. Sometimes it can give him a long and troublesome job, and
sometimes it may be wrath to the death. But in nineteen out of twenty
cases it is not a fearful thing, and the policeman knows well when
he need not fear it. On the present occasion Bozzle was not at all
afraid of Colonel Osborne's wrath.

"Well, sir, not much, indeed, if you come to that. Only you was
there, sir."

"Of course I was there," said the Colonel.

"And a very nice young gentleman is Mr. Stanbury," said Bozzle.

To this Colonel Osborne made no reply, but again had resort to his
newspaper in the most formal manner.

"He's going down to his family, no doubt," continued Bozzle.

"He may be going to the devil for what I know," said the Colonel, who
could not restrain himself.

"I suppose they're all friends of Mrs. T.'s?" asked Bozzle.

"Sir," said the Colonel, "I believe that you're a spy."

"No, Colonel, no; no, no; I'm no spy. I wouldn't demean myself to be
such. A spy is a man as has no profession, and nothing to justify his
looking into things. Things must be looked into, Colonel; or how's a
man to know where he is? or how's a lady to know where she is? But
as for spies, except in the way of evidence, I don't think nothing
of 'em." Soon after this two more passengers en