a band of roughs to make a disturbance at the meeting. Fancy how
indignant Donovan would be! I only wish he were here to take a
word to Mr. Raeburn."

"Will he not most likely have heard from some other source?" said
Brian.

"Possibly, but I shall go round and see. Such abominations ought
to be put down, and if by our own side all the better."

Brian was only too glad that his father should go, and indeed he
would probably have wished to take the message himself had not his
mind been set upon getting the best edition of Longfellow to be
found in all London for his ideal. So at the turning into Guilford
Square, the father and son parted.

The bookseller's information had roused in Charles Osmond a keen
sense of indignation; he walked on rapidly as soon as he had left
his son, and in a very few minutes had reached the gloomy entrance
to Guilford Terrace. It was currently reported that Raeburn made
fabulous sums by his work, and lived in great luxury; but the real
fact was that, whatever his income, few men led so self-denying a
life, or voluntarily endured such privations. Charles Osmond could
not help wishing that he could bring some of the intolerant with
him down that gloomy little alley, to the door of that comfortless
lodging house. He rang, and was admitted into the narrow passage,
then shown into the private study of the great man. The floor was
uncarpeted, the window uncurtained, the room was almost dark; but
a red-glow of fire light served to show a large writing table
strewn with papers, and walls literally lined with books; also on