"Don't go with him, miss," urged Mrs. Quail. "He's a bad one: look at his eyes."

Beatrice had no need to look at them. She knew well the evil that they held, and shrank, as she always did, from contact with this creature of the night. Certainly Waterloo was much better dressed than when she had seen him last. He wore a somewhat shabby frock coat, a pair of smart patent-leather boots, a fashionable collar, and a silk hat which glistened like the sun. The tramp actually reeked of some fashionable scent, and swung a dandy cane with a genteel air. He wore a wig, from under which his natural red hair peeped; and his false teeth looked aggressively white and new. On the whole, Waterloo evidently considered that he was now a perfect buck, and ogled the comely landlady and the shrinking girl with an assured air.

"You are not deceiving me?" asked Beatrice, forcing herself to be civil to the man, for obvious reasons.

"S'elp me Bob! no," leered the rejuvenated wreck. "Durban, he come up t'town t'other day, an' wos run h'over by a bus as wos drivin' motor-car fashions--more miles an hour than sense, miss. He ses t'me--an ole pal of his--as he wanted to see you, and tell you wot y'should know. He ses es he'll tell you who killed your par an' th' ole Alpenny bloke."

This remark decided Beatrice. Come what may, she determined to learn the truth at last. Also, Durban was her best and oldest friend, and from what Lady Watson had said he had evidently been a better friend to her than she knew. After a moment or two she made up her mind, and turned to Mrs. Quail, who was gazing disdainfully at the leering Waterloo.

"I must go, Mrs. Quail," she said decisively; "if Durban is ill I must help him."

"But with this man?"

"Oh! I'm saif, laidy. No 'arm about me. Oh no, not at all."

"If Mr. Paslow comes," said Beatrice, addressing the landlady, and taking no notice of Waterloo, "tell him I have gone with Waterloo to see Durban.--Where is he?" she asked the man.

"In a room in a 'ouse, Malta Street, Stepney--No. 50," said Waterloo quickly, and passed along a scrap of dirty paper to Mrs. Quail. "If the young laidy don't come back saif an' sound, you'll find me 'ere."

"If she's not back by nine to-night," retorted Mrs. Quail, putting the paper in her pocket, "I'll see the police about the matter.--And after all, miss, I wouldn't go with him."

"I must," said Beatrice quickly; "there is so much at stake." And giving the landlady no further time to remonstrate, she walked away with Waterloo, who swaggered like the buck he thought he was.

"How do we get to Stepney?" asked Beatrice while they walked along Kensington High Street.

"Underground," said Waterloo glibly. "Underground to Bishopgate, an' then we taike th' Liverpool Street train to Stepney, an'----"

"That is enough," said Beatrice, cutting him short, and walking very fast; "speak as little to me as you can."

Waterloo scowled, and his scowl was not a pleasant sight. However, he held his tongue until they were safe in a first-class underground carriage--Beatrice did not want to go with this creature in a third-class, and luckily there were three or four ladies in the compartment. While the train was steaming through the tunnels, Waterloo held a whispered conversation with Beatrice. At first she was inclined to stop him; but when she heard what he had to say, she listened attentively.

"I saiy," murmured the rogue confidentially, "you're a clipper; y'are tryin' to find out all about us. But y'won't. There's only one cove es can put things straight, an' thet is Waterloo Esquire."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Ah, thet's tellin's, miss. Don't you arsk any questing, an' no lies will be tole. But if y'meke it wuth me while, I'll git you the young gent all t'yourself."

"Mr. Paslow?"

"Thet's him. Not a bad cove--oh, by no means--but a greenhorn, miss, es anyone kin see. If he don't do wot the Major wants him to do, he's a goner--saime es your par an' the Alpenny cove."

"What does the horrible creature mean?" Beatrice asked herself half aloud, and he heard her.

"Don' call naimes, miss. Th' king comes the cadger's waiy sometime, es I knows, an' you may 'ave to meke use of me some daiy. It's all a questing of money."

"Of money?"

"Yuss"--he leaned forward and whispered hoarsely in her ear--"or of thet there necklace."

"It is not mine--it is----"

"But it are yours, miss, and you git it. Wen y'arsked everyone to try an' git t'know wot y'want t'know, and fail," said Waterloo, with great emphasis, "you pass along the necklace t'me, and then I'll tell y' wot's wot. I'm a oner, I am."

"But why do you wish to betray your friends for me?"

"Ah, their toime's acomin' to an end, miss, an' I don't want t'be in et th' finish, which is in th' dock. Wen ole Alpenny wos alive, he 'ad a 'ead, he 'ad; but this Major Ruck cove's spilin' things as quick es jimmy, oh."

"But in what way?"

"Oh, I ain't agoin' to saiy any more. Wen th' bust comes y'think of me, miss," and with this final remark, Waterloo lay back luxuriously against the soft cushions. Beatrice saw the necessity of enlisting this traitor on her side, and saw also that he was open to bribery, although the bribe of the necklace was a very costly one. But in spite of all her endeavours, she could not get the man to talk. Waterloo only winked and leered, and thrust his tongue in his cheek, much to the disgust of the ladies opposite, who apparently could not understand how such a quiet, ladylike girl came to be in the society of such a raffish animal.

With the utmost gravity Waterloo conducted Beatrice to the Liverpool Street Station, and placed her in another first-class carriage. This time he got the tickets himself, and she wondered where he had procured the money to do so. From what she had seen of the man, he was a genuine tramp, and more used to walking than to riding. But it was evident that he belonged to the Black Patch Gang, and apparently the gang had been successful lately. Waterloo himself declined to impart further information, but leered and winked as usual, so Beatrice held her peace, and tried to steel herself to the adventure. She recognised that she was acting foolishly in going into the slums with Waterloo, but since Vivian was lost to her, she felt that she cared very little what happened. Besides, desperate diseases require desperate remedies, and in that proverb she found ground for believing that she was acting rightly. Finally, she was certain that whatever was intended, her life would be safe, and while she lived she could always get out of any difficulty by exercising her strong will and undaunted spirit.

Alighting at Stepney Station, Waterloo conducted her to a four-wheeler, and this drove off down the street Then Waterloo engaged her in conversation, and hinted that he knew everything about the Black Patch Gang. Beatrice, listening to his half hints, became so interested that she did not notice that the cab was passing down a series of mean streets; and only when it drew up with a jerk before a most disreputable-looking house, did she see that she was in a very low and dangerous neighbourhood. However, she had gone too far to retreat, and therefore stepped out with great coolness. The cab drove off without payment. "One of us," said Waterloo, jerking his thumb over his shoulder with a wink.

They were admitted through a closely barred door into a narrow passage dimly lighted. On ascending the stairs Beatrice noted how foul the walls were with grime and grease. Various small rooms, some of which had open doors, revealed raffish individuals, and various states of disorder. The place was a den as foul as that inhabited by Mr. Fagin, and Beatrice, used to the fresh air of the country, felt ill with the tainted atmosphere. However, she suppressed all signs of disgust, as these would have made Waterloo angry, and for apparent reasons she wished to cultivate his good will.

He led her to the very top of the house, and came to another door sheeted with iron. In response to a touch on a button this opened, and pushing Beatrice in he closed it again, remaining on the outside. The girl, who was taken by surprise, tried to reopen the door, but it was fast closed, and she heard the little brute chuckle on the other side. She was caught, like a rat in a trap. It only remained for her to see if Durban was caught also--or if he exercised sufficient authori............