Another shake of the hand, Marchioness, if you please. Sit down, sir."

Mr. Abel seemed rather astonished to hear of the quality of his guide,
and took a chair by the bedside.

"I have sent for you, sir," said Dick--"but she told you on what
account?"

"She did. I am quite bewildered by all this. I really don't know what to
say or think," replied Mr. Abel.

"You'll say that presently," retorted Dick. "Marchioness, take a seat
on the bed, will you? Now, tell this gentleman all that you told me, and
be particular."

The story was repeated, without any deviation or omission, after which
Richard Swiveller took the word again;

"You have heard it all," said Richard. "I'm too giddy and queer to
suggest anything, but you and your friends will know what to do. After
this long delay, every minute is an age. Don't stop to say one word to
me, but go! If you lose another minute in looking at me, sir, I'll never
forgive you!"

Mr. Abel needed no more persuasion. To Dick's unbounded delight he was
gone in an instant, and Mr. Swiveller, exhausted by the interview, was
soon asleep, murmuring 'Strew, then, oh strew a bed of rushes. Here will
we stay till morning blushes.' "Good-night, Marchioness!"

On awaking in the morning, he became conscious of whispering voices in