man hurriedly, moving forward.

'No, no; I won't be no expense to you, Godwin, bo-oy. And I 'ave a
reason for wantin' to go to the little shop opposyte.'

Already several collegians had passed, giving Peak a nod and
scanning his companion; a moment's delay and Chilvers would be upon
him. Without another word, Godwin moved across the broad street to
the place of refreshment which his uncle had indicated, and whither
Earwaker had preceded them. It was a pastry-cook's, occasionally
visited by the alumni of Whitelaw. In the rear of the shop a little
room offered seats and tables, and here, Godwin knew, Earwaker would
be found.

'Let us go up-stairs,' he said, leading to a side entrance. 'There's
a quieter room.'

'Right you are!'

The uncle--his name was Andrew Peak--paused to make a survey of
the premises. When he entered, his scrutiny of the establishment was
close, and he seemed to reflect with interest upon all he saw. The
upper room was empty; a long table exhibited knives and forks, but
there were no signs of active business. Andrew pulled a bell-rope;
the summons was answered by an asthmatic woman, who received an
order for tea, toast, 'watercreases', and sundry other constituents
of a modest meal.

'Come 'ere often, Godwin?' inquired Andrew, as he stood by the
window and mused.