The wide-mouthed man helped me into my jacket, shook hands with me,
and said I had no science, but the devil's own pluck-and-lights.
Then he, too, faded away into the night; and I found myself alongside
of Doggy Bates, marching up the street after Mr. Stimcoe, who
declaimed, as he went, upon the vulgarity of street-fighting.

By-and-by it became apparent that in the soothing flow of his
eloquence he had forgotten us; and Doggy Bates, who understood his
preceptor's habits to a hair, checked me with a knowing squeeze of
the arm, and began, of set purpose, to lag in his steps. Mr. Stimcoe
strode on, still audibly denouncing and exhorting.

"It was all my fault!" Master Bates pulled up and studied my mauled
face by the light of a street-lamp. "The beggar heard me shouting
his own name, silly fool that I was!"

I begged him not to be distressed on my account.

"What's the use of half a fight?" he groaned again. "My word,
though, won't Stimcoe catch it from the missus! She sent him out to
get change for your aunt's notes--'fees payable in advance.' I know
the game--to pay off the bailey; and he's been soaking in a
public-house ever since. Hallo!"

We turned together at the sound of footsteps approaching after us up
the street. They broke into a run, then appeared to falter; and,
peering into the dark interval between us and the next lamp, I
discerned Captain Coffin. He had come to a halt, and stood there
mysteriously beckoning.