to Wapping for a coast-steamer.

He did not find it at all pleasant, so far east and so near the river;

for the roughs were in great force. However, there being no block, not

even in Nightingale Lane, he reached the entrance of the wharf, and set

down his passenger without annoyance. But as he turned to go back, some

idlers, not content with chaffing him, showed a mind to the fare the

young woman had given him. They were just pulling him off the box, and

Diamond was shouting for the police, when a pale-faced man, in very

shabby clothes, but with the look of a gentleman somewhere about him,

came up, and making good use of his stick, drove them off.

“Now, my little man,” he said, “get on while you can. Don't lose any

time. This is not a place for you.”

But Diamond was not in the habit of thinking only of himself. He saw

that his new friend looked weary, if not ill, and very poor.

“Won't you jump in, sir?” he said. “I will take you wherever you like.”

“Thank you, my man; but I have no money; so I can't.”

“Oh! I don't want any money. I shall be much happier if you will get in.

You have saved me all I had. I owe you a lift, sir.”

“Which way are you going?”

“To Charing Cross; but I don't mind where I go.”

“Well, I am very tired. If you will take me to Charing Cross, I shall be

greatly obliged to you. I have walked from Gravesend, and had hardly a

penny left to get through the tunnel.”

So saying, he opened the door and got in, and Diamond drove away.

But as he drove, he could not help fancying he had seen the

gentleman--for Diamond knew he was a gentleman--before. Do all he could,

however, he could not recall where or when. Meantime his fare, if we may

call him such, seeing he was to pay nothing, whom the relief of being

carried had made less and less inclined to carry himself, had been

turning over things in his mind, and, as they passed the Mint, called to

Diamond, who stopped the horse, got down and went to the window.

“If you didn't mind taking me to Chiswick, I should be able to pay you

when we got there. It's a long way, but you shall have the whole fare

from the Docks--and something over.”

“Very well, sir” said Diamond. “I shall be most happy.”

He was just clambering up again, when the gentleman put his head out of

the window and said--

“It's The Wilderness--Mr. Coleman's place; but I'll direct you when we

come into the neighbourhood.”

It flashed upon Diamond who he was. But he got upon his box to arrange

his thoughts before making any reply.

The gentleman was Mr. Evans, to whom Miss Coleman was to have been

married, and Diamond had seen him several times with her in the garden.

I have said that he had not behaved very well to Miss Coleman. He had

put off their marriage more than once in a cowardly fashion, merely

because he was ashamed to marry upon a small income, and live in a

humble way. When a man thinks of what people will say in such a case, he

may love, but his love is but a poor affair. Mr. Coleman took him

into the firm as a junior partner, and it was in a measure through his

influence that he entered upon those speculations which ruined him. So

his love had not been a blessing. The ship which North Wind had sunk was

their last venture, and Mr. Evans had gone out with it in the hope

of turning its cargo to the best advantage. He was one of the single

boat-load which managed to reach a desert island, and he had gone

through a great many hardships and sufferings since then. But he was

not past being taught, and his troubles had done him no end of good, for

they had made him doubt himself, and begin to think, so that he had come

to see that he had been foolish as well as wicked. For, if he had had

Miss Coleman with him in the desert island, to build her a hut, and hunt

for her food, and make clothes for her, he would have thought himself

the most fortunate of men; and when he was at home, he would not marry

till he could afford a man-servant. Before he got home again, he had

even begun to understand that no man can make haste to be rich without

going against the will of God, in which case it is the one frightful

thing to be successful. So he had come back a more humble man, and

longing to ask Miss Coleman to forgive him. But he had no idea what

ruin had fallen upon them, for he had never made himself thoroughly

acquainted with the firm's affairs. Few speculative people do know their

own affairs. Hence he never doubted he should find matters much as he

left them, and expected to see them all at The Wilderness as before. But

if he had not fallen in with Diamond, he would not have thought of going

there first.

What was Diamond to do? He had heard his father and mother drop

some remarks concerning Mr. Evans which made him doubtful of him. He

understood that he had not been so considerate as he might have been.

So he went rather slowly till he should make up his mind. It was, of

course, of no use to drive Mr. Evans to Chiswick. But if he should tell

him what had befallen them, and where they lived now, he might put off

going to see them, and he was certain that Miss Coleman, at least, must

want very much to see Mr. Evans. He was pretty sure also that the best

thing in any case was to bring them together, and let them set matters

right for themselves.

The moment he came to this conclusion, he changed his course from

westward to northward, and went straight for Mr. Coleman's poor little

house in Hoxton. Mr. Evans was too tired and too much occupied with his

thoughts to take the least notice of the streets they passed through,

and had no suspicion, therefore, of the change of direction.

By this time the wind had increased almost to a hurricane, and as they

had often to head it, it was no joke for either of the Diamonds. The

distance, however, was not great. Before they reached the street where

Mr. Coleman lived it blew so tremendously, that when Miss Coleman, who

was going out a little way, opened the door, it dashed against the wall

with such a bang, that she was afraid to venture, and went in again.

In five minutes after, Diamond drew up at the door. As soon as he had

entered the street, however, the wind blew right behind them, and when

he pulled up, old Diamond had so much ado to stop the cab against it,

that the breeching broke. Young Diamond jumped off his box, knocked

loudly at the door, then turned to the cab and said--before Mr. Evans

had quite begun to think something must be amiss:

“Please, sir, my harness has given away. Would you mind stepping in here

for a few minutes? They're friends of mine. I'll take you where you like

after I've got it mended. I shan't be many minutes, but you can't stand

in this wind.”

Half stupid with fatigue and want of food, Mr. Evans yielded to the

boy's suggestion, and walked in at the door which the maid held with

difficulty against the wind. She took Mr. Evans for a visitor, as indeed

he was, and showed him into the room on the ground-floor. Diamond, who

had followed into the hall, whispered to her as she closed the door--

“Tell Miss Coleman. It's Miss Coleman he wants to see.”

“I don't know” said the maid. “He don't look much like a gentleman.”

“He is, though; and I know him, and so does Miss Coleman.”

The maid could not but remember Diamond, having seen him when he and his

father brought the ladies home. So she believed him, and went to do what