station-master. A roar of laughter interrupted me again.
Carlotta, with outstretched hand and pleading eyes, like an
organ-grinder's monkey, had induced the boy to part with the
sticky bit of toffee, and was in the act of conveying it to
her mouth.

"I'll call to-morrow morning," said I hurriedly to the
station-master. "If the gentleman should come meanwhile,
tell him to leave his name and address."

Then I took Carlotta by the arm and, accompanied by my train of
satellites, I thrust her into the first hansom-cab I could see.

There was no sign or token of Harry. No pretty young man was
hanging dejectedly about the station. None had torn his hair
before the officials asking for news of a lost female in frowsy
black. There was no Harry. There was no further need therefore
to afford the British public a gratuitous entertainment.

"Drive," said I to the cabman. "Drive like the devil."

"Where to, sir?"

I gasped. Where should I drive? I lost my head.

"Go on driving round and round till I tell you to stop." The
philosophic cabman did not regard me as eccentric, for he whipped
up his horse cheerfully. When we had slid down the steep incline
and got free of the precincts of that hateful station, I breathed
more freely and collected my wits. Carlotta sucked her sticky