and my advice to you is to go easy."

He walked along by the side of them, and, after some demur, consented, as
a further disguise, to put on a pair of spectacles, for which Mr. Kidd's
wife's mother had been hunting high and low since eight o'clock that
morning.

"You doddle about 'ere for ten minutes," said Mr. Kidd, as they reached
the Monument, "and then foller on. When you pass a lamp-post 'old your
handkerchief up to your face. And wait for us at the corner of your road
till we come for you."

He went off at a brisk pace with Mr. Brown, a pace moderated to one of
almost funeral solemnity as they approached the residence of Mrs. Gibbs.
To their relief she was alone, and after the usual amenities thanked them
warmly for all they had done for her.

"I'd do more than that for pore Joe," said Mr. Brown.

"They--they 'aven't found 'im yet?" said the widow.

Mr. Kidd shook his head. "My idea is they won't find 'im," he said,
slowly.

"Went down on the ebb tide," explained Mr. Brown; and spoilt Mr. Kidd's
opening.

"Wherever he is 'e's better off," said Mrs. Gibbs.

"No more trouble about being out o' work; no more worry; no more pain.