by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XV.
"The burglary season seems to have recommenced in earnest," Mark's chiefsaid some nine months after he had been at work. "For a time there hadbeen a lull, as you know, but I have had three reports this week, and itstrikes me that they are by the same hand as before; of course I may bemistaken, but they are done in a similar way, the only difference beingthat there is ground for believing that only one man is engaged in them.I fancy the fellow that you are after has either been away from Londonfor some time, or has been keeping very quiet. At any rate, we haveevery ground for believing that he keeps himself aloof from Londonthieves, which is what I should expect from such a man. If one has nerveenough to do it, there is nothing like working singly; when two orthree men are engaged, there is always the risk of one being caughtand turning Queen's evidence, or of there being a quarrel, and of hispeaching from revenge.
"If your man has been away from town, he has certainly not been workingany one district; of course, one gets the usual number of reports fromdifferent quarters; but although burglaries are frequent enough, therehas been no complaint of a sudden increase of such crimes as there wouldhave been judging from the numerous daring attempts here, had Bastowbeen concerned; therefore I feel sure that he has been living quietly.He would have his mate's share--that man you shot, you know--of theplunder they made together; he would know that after that affair at yourplace there would be a vigilant hunt for him, and it is likely enoughthat he has retired altogether from business for a time.
"However, men of that sort can never stand a quiet life long, and aresure sooner or later to take to their trade again, if only for the sakeof its excitement. Now that the burglaries have begun again, I shallbe glad if you will devote yourself entirely to this business. You haveserved a good apprenticeship, and for our sake as well as yours I shouldbe glad for you to have it in hand."
"I shall be very pleased to do so, sir. Although we do not know where heis to be found, I think I can say that it is not in the slums ofLondon; it seems to me that he may be quietly settled as an eminentlyrespectable man almost under our noses; he may show himself occasionallyat fashionable resorts, and may be a regular attendant at horse races.
"He would not run any appreciable risk in doing so, for his face isquite unknown to anyone except the constables who were present at histrial, and even these would scarcely be likely to recognize him, for hewas then but eighteen, while he is now six or seven and twenty, and nodoubt the life he has led must have changed him greatly."
"I quite agree with you," the chief said. "After the first hunt for himwas over, he might do almost anything without running much risk. Well,I put the matter in your hands, and leave it to you to work out in yourown way; you have given ample proof of your shrewdness and pluck, andin this case especially I know that you will do everything that ispossible. Of course you will be relieved of all other duties, and if ittakes you months before you can lay hands upon him, we shall consider ittime well spent, if you succeed at last. From time to time change yourquarters, but let me know your address, so that, should I learn anythingthat may be useful, I can communicate with you at once. You had bettertake another name than that by which you are known in the force. I shallbe glad if, after thinking the matter over, you will write me a fewlines stating what you propose to do in the first place."
Mark went back to his lodgings, and sat there for some time, thinkingmatters over. His first thought was to attend the races for a time, butseeing the number of people there, and his own ignorance of Bastow'sappearance, he abandoned the idea, and determined to try a slower butmore methodical plan. After coming to that conclusion he put on his hatand made his way to Mrs. Cunningham's.
"Well, Mr. Constable," Millicent said saucily, as he entered, "any freshcaptures?"
"No, I think that I have for the present done with that sort of thing; Ihave served my apprenticeship, and am now setting up on my own account."
"How is that, Mark?"
"There is reason to believe that Bastow has begun his work again nearLondon. As I have told you, it is absolutely certain that he is nothiding in any of the places frequented by criminals here, and thereis every reason for supposing that he has been leading a quiet lifesomewhere, or that he has been away in the country. As long as that wasthe case, there was nothing to be done; but now that he seems to haveset to work again, it is time for me to be on the move. I have seen thechief this morning, and he has released me from all other' duty, andgiven me carte blanche to work in my own way."
"Then why don't you leave the force altogether, Mark? You know that Ihave always thought it hateful that you should be working under orders,like any other constable."
"Of course, women don't like to be under orders, Millicent; but men arenot so independent, and are quite content to obey those who are wellqualified to give orders. I have had a very interesting time of it."
"Very interesting!" she said scornfully. "You have nearly been killedor shot half a dozen times; you have been obliged to wear all sorts ofdirty clothes, to sleep in places where one would not put a dog, andgenerally to do all sorts of things altogether unbecoming in yourposition."
"My dear, I have no particular position," he laughed, and then went onmore seriously: "My one position at present is that of avenger ofmy father's murder, and nothing that can assist me in the task isunbecoming to me; but, as I said, it has been interesting, I may almostsay fascinating, work. I used to be fond of hunting, but I can tell youthat it is infinitely more exciting to hunt a man than it is to hunt afox. You are your own hound, you have to pick up the scent, to followit up, however much the quarry may wind and double, and when at last youlay your hand upon his shoulder and say, 'In the King's name,' there isan infinitely keener pleasure than there is when the hounds run downthe fox. One sport is perhaps as dangerous as the other: in the one caseyour horse may fail at a leap and you may break your neck, in the otheryou may get a bullet in your head; so in that respect there is not muchto choose between man and fox hunting. There is the advantage, though,that in the one you have to depend upon your horse's strength, and inthe other on your own courage."
"I know that you are an enthusiast over it, Mark, and I can fancy thatif I were a big strong man, as you are, I might do the same; but if youare going now to try by yourself, why should you not leave the forcealtogether?"
"Because, in the first place, I shall get all the information theyobtain, and can send for any assistance that I may require. In the nextplace, by showing this little staff with its silver crown, I show thatI am a Bow Street runner, and can obtain information at once from allsorts of people which I could not get without its aid."
"Well, I won't say anything more against it, Mark. How are you going tobegin?"
"I mean to go the round of all the places near London--say, within tenmiles. I shall stay from a week to a fortnight in each, take a quietlodging, give out that I am on the lookout for a small house with agarden, and get to talk with people of all kinds."
"But I cannot see what you have to inquire for."
"I imagine that Bastow will have taken just the sort of house that I aminquiring for, and in the course of my questions I may hear of someoneliving in just that sort of way--a retired life, not making manyfriends, going up to London sometimes, and keeping, perhaps, a deaf oldwoman as a servant, or perhaps a deaf old man--someone, you see, whowould not be likely to hear him if he came home in the middle of thenight, or in the early morning. Once I hear of such a man, I shouldascertain his age, and whether generally he agreed in appearance withwhat Bastow is likely to be by this time, then get down one of theconstables who was at the trial, and take his opinion on the subject,after which we should only have to watch the house at night and pounceupon him as he came back from one of his excursions. That is the broadoutline of my plan. I cannot help thinking that in the long run I shallbe able to trace him, and of course it will make it all the easier if hetakes to stopping coaches or committing murderous burglaries."
"Then I suppose we are not going
to see you often, Mark?"
"Well, not so often as you have done, Millicent, for some time, at anyrate. I shall not be more than five or six miles away, and I shall oftenride into town for the evening, and return late with some sort of hopethat I may be stopped on the road again; it would save me a world oftrouble, you see, if he would come to me instead of my having to findhim."
"Which side of London are you going to try first?"
"The south side, certainly; there are a score of places that would beconvenient to him--Dulwich, Clapham, Tooting, Wimbledon, Stockwell; thelist is a long one. I should say Wimbledon was about the most distant,and I should think that he would not go so far as that; if he only actedas a highwayman he might be as far off as Epsom; but if he is really theman concerned in these burglaries he must be but a short distance away.He would hardly risk having to ride very far with the chance of comingupon the patrols. I think that I shall begin at Peckham; that is acentral sort of position, and from there I shall work gradually west;before I do so perhaps I shall try Lewisham. He is likely, in any case,to be quite on the outskirts of any village he may have settled in, inorder that he may ride in and out at any hour without his coming andgoing being noticed."
"You certainly seem to have thought it over in all ways, Mark; youalmost infect me with your ardor, and make me wish that I was a man andcould help you."
"You are much nicer as you are, Millicent."
The girl tossed her head in disdain at the compliment.
"It is all very well, Mark," she went on, ignoring his speech, "but itseems to me that in finding out things a woman would be able to dojust as much as a man; she can gossip with her neighbors and ask abouteveryone in a place quite as well, if not better, than a man."
"Yes I don't doubt that," Mark laughed, "and if I want your aid I shallhave no hesitation in asking for it. Until then I hope you will go onwith your painting and harping steadily, like a good little girl."
"I am nearly eighteen, sir, and I object to be called a good littlegirl."
"Well, if I were to say a good young woman you would not like it."
"No, I don't think I should. I don't know why, but when anyone says agirl is a good young woman or a nice young woman, there always seemssomething derogatory about it; it is almost as bad as saying she is avery respectable young person, which is odious."
"Then, you see," he went on, "you are quite getting on in society; sinceMr. Cotter's introduction to Mrs. Cunningham and his mother's subsequentcall you have got to know a good many people and go about a good deal."
"Yes, it has been more lively of late," she admitted. "At first it wascertainly monstrously dull here, and I began to think that we shouldhave to change our plans and go down again to Weymouth, and settle therefor a time. Now I am getting contented; but I admit, even at the risk ofmaking you conceited, that we shall certainly miss you very much, asyou have been very good, considering how busy you have been, to come inthree or four evenings every week for a chat."
"There has been nothing very good about it, Millicent; it has been verypleasant to me; it is like a bit of old times again when I am here withyou two, and seem to leave all the excitement of one's work behind as Icome in at the door."
"I wonder whether the old time will ever come back again, Mark?" shesaid sadly.
"It never can be quite the old time again, but when you are back at theold place it may be very near it."
She looked at him reproachfully.
"You think that I shall change my mind, Mark, but at heart you knowbetter. The day I am one and twenty I hope to carry out my intentions."
"Well, as I have told you before, Millicent, I cannot control youractions, but I am at least master of my own. You can give away Crowswoodto whom you like, but at least you cannot compel me to take it. Make itover to one of the hospitals if you like--that is within your power; butit is not in your power to force me into the mean action of enrichingmyself because you have romantic notions in your mind. I should scornmyself were I capable of doing such an action. I wonder you think someanly of me as to suppose for a moment that I would do so."
"It is a great pity my father did not leave the property outright toyour father, then all this bother would have been avoided," she saidquietly. "I should still have had plenty to live upon without therebeing any fear of being loved merely for my money."
"It would have been the same thing if he had," Mark said stubbornly."My father would not have taken it, and I am sure that I should not havetaken it after him; you are his proper heiress. I don't say if he hadleft a son, and that son had been a second Bastow, that one would havehesitated, for he would probably have gambled it away in a year, thetenants might have been ruined, and the village gone to the dogs.Every man has a right to disinherit an unworthy son, but that is a verydifferent thing from disinheriting a daughter simply from a whim. Well,don't let us talk about it any more, Millicent. It is the only thingthat we don't agree about, and therefore it is best left alone."
The next day Mark established himself at an inn in Peckham, and for sixweeks made diligent inquiries, but without success. There were at leasta dozen men who lived quietly and rode or drove to their business intown. Many of them were put aside as needing no investigation, havingbeen residents there for years. Some of the others he saw start orreturn, but none of them corresponded in any way with the probableappearance of the man for whom he was in search. During this time heheard of several private coaches being held up on the road between Epsomand London, and three burglaries took place at Streatham.
He then moved to Stockwell. Before proceeding there he had his horseup again from Crowswood, and rode into Stockwell from the west. He wasdressed now as a small country squire, and had a valise strapped behindhis saddle. The inn there was a busy one.
"I want a room," he said, as he alighted. "I shall probably stay here afew days."
Presently he had a talk with the landlord.
"I am on the lookout," he said, "for a little place near town. I havecome in for a small estate in the country, but I have no taste forfarming, and want to be within easy reach of town, and at the sametime to have a place with a paddock where I can keep my horse and livequietly. I don't much care whether it is here or anywhere else withina few miles of town, and I intend to ride about and see if I can find aplace that will suit me. I do not want to be nearer the town than this,for I have not money enough to go the pace; still, I should like to benear enough to ride or walk in whenever I have a fancy for it."
"I understand, sir. Of course there are plenty of places round here,at Clapham and Tooting, and I may say Streatham, but most of them area deal too large for a bachelor, still I have no doubt you would find aplace to suit you without much difficulty. These sort of places are mostin request by London tradesmen who have given up business and want toget a little way out of town and keep a gig. I should say there must bea score of such people living round here. I am often asked about suchplaces, but I don't know of one to let just at the present moment.
"Still, there ought to be, for of late people have not cared so muchto come out here; there has been such a scare owing to highwaymen andburglars, that men with wives and families don't fancy settling out oftown, though there aint much work about it, for to every one house thatis broken into there are thousands that are not, and besides, the housesthat these fellows try are large places, where there is plenty of silverplate and a few gold watches, and perhaps some money to be had."
Mark soon made the acquaintance of the stablemen, and a few pints ofbeer put them on good terms with him. Every day he took rides round theneighborhood, going out early, stabling his horse, and after having achat with the ostlers, strolling round the place. Clapham, Ewell, andStreatham were also visited.
"I know of a place that would just suit you," the ostler at theGreyhound at Streatham said to him, on the occasion of his third visitthere; "but it is let; my old mother is the gentleman's housekeeper.He took the place through me, for he rode up just as you have done, oneafternoon, nigh a year
ago. He was from town, he was; he told me thathe had been going the pace too hard, and had to pull in, and wanted alittle place where he could keep his horse and live quiet for a time. Itold him of a place that I thought would suit him just outside the town,and he called in the next day and told me he had taken it. 'Now,' hesaid, 'I want a woman as house keeper; an old woman, you know. I cannotbe bothered with a young one. If you speak a civil word to a wench shesoon fancies you are in love with her. I want one who can cook a chop ora steak, fry me a bit of bacon, and boil an egg and keep the place tidy.I intend to look after my horse myself.'
"'Well, sir,' I said, 'there is my old mother. She is a widow, and itis as much as she can do to keep off the parish. She is reckoned a tidycook and a good cleaner, and she could keep herself well enough if itwasn't that she is so hard of hearing that many people don't care toemploy her.'
"'I don't care a rap about that,' he said. 'I shall not need to talk toher except to tell her what I will have for dinner, and if she is deafshe won't want to be away gossiping. Does she live near here?'
"'She lives in the town,' I said. 'I can fetch her down in half anhour.'
"'That will do,' says he. 'I am going to have lunch. When I have, done Iwill come out and speak with her.'
"Well, sir, he engaged her right off, and he tipped me a guinea forfinding the place for him, and there he has been ever since. It was alucky job for mother, for she says there never was a gentleman that gaveless trouble. He is a wonderful quiet man, and in general stops at homeall the day smoking and reading. He has a boy comes in two or threetimes a week to work in the garden. Sometimes of an evening he rides upto town. I expect he cannot keep away from the cards altogether."
"Is he an elderly man?" Mark asked.
"Lor', no, sir; under thirty, I should say. He is a free handed sort ofchap, and though he aint particular about his eating, he likes a bottleof good wine, the old woman says, even if it is only with a chop. Henever rides past here and I happen to be outside without tossing me ashilling to drink his health."
Mark went into the house and ordered lunch. It would not have done tohave asked any more questions or to have shown any special interest inthe matter, but he felt so excited that he could not have avoided doingso had he waited longer with the ostler. After he had finished his mealhe strolled out again into the stable yard.
"Well," he said to the ostler, "can't you put me up to another goodthing, just as you told that gentleman you were speaking to me about?"
"There are two or three places that I know of that might suit you, sir.There is a house on the hill. I know that it has got a paddock, but Idon't know how big it is; it is in general known as Hawleys--that is thename of the last people who lived there. Anyone will tell you which isthe house. Then there is another place. You turn to the right the thirdturning on the hill; it stands by itself two or three hundred yardsdown; it has got a goodish bit of ground. There is only one house beyondit; that is the one where my mother lives. That was an old farm once,but this was built later. I believe the ground belonged to the farm. Youwill know it by a big tree in front of it; it stands back forty feet orso from the road."
"Where does the road lead to?"
"Well, sir, it aint much of a road beyond the next house; it is onlya lane, but you can get through that way into the main road, throughTooting down into Balham, and on to Wimbledon."
"'I think I will go and have a look at both those places," Mark said.
"Will you take your horse, sir?"
"No; I suppose it is not much above half a mile?"
"About that, sir."
"Then I will walk; I shall not be likely to find anyone to hold my horsethere."
Mark had no difficulty in finding the house. It looked as if it had beenuntenanted for some time, and in the window was a notice that for keysand information applications were to be made at a shop in the HighStreet. Well pleased to find that there was no one in the house, Markentered the gate and passed round into what at one time had been akitchen garden behind it; at the bottom of this was a field of three orfour acres.
The ground was separated by a hedge from that of the house beyond. Thiswas fully a hundred yards away. A well bred horse was grazing in thefield, a man smoking a pipe was watching a boy doing gardening workbehind the house. Mark remained for nearly an hour concealed behindthe hedge in hopes that he would come nearer. At the end of that time,however, he went into the house, and after waiting another ten minutesMark also left, resisting the temptation to walk along the road and takea closer look at it, for he felt that such a step would be dangerous,for should the man notice anyone looking at the place his suspicionsmight be aroused.
It was evident that the lane was very little used; in many cases thegrass grew across it. There were marks of horses' feet, but none ofwheels, and he concluded that when going up to town the man came thatway and rode quietly through Streatham, for the hoof prints all pointedin that direction, and that on his return at night he came up the lanefrom the other road.
"Well, master, what do you think of the houses?" the ostler asked on hisreturn to the inn.
"I have only been to the one in the lane that you spoke of, for I wantto get back to town. I had a good look at it, but it is rather a drearylooking place, and evidently wants a lot of repairs before it canbe made comfortable. The next time that I am down I will look at theother."
Mounting his horse, he rode at a rapid pace into London, and dismountedat Bow Street.
"You have news, I see, Mr. Thorndyke," the chief said when he entered.
"I have, sir; I believe that I have marked the man down; at any rate, ifit is not he, it is a criminal of some sort--of that I have no doubt."
"That is good news indeed," the chief said. "Now tell me all about it."
Mark repeated the story the ostler had told him, and the result of hisown observations.
"You see," he said, "the man, whether Bastow or not, has clearly takenthe place for the purpose of concealment, for he can approach it bythe lane, which is a very unfrequented one, on his return from hisexpeditions. He has taken on a deaf old woman who will not hear him ridein at night, and will have no idea at what hours he comes home. Ridingout through the main street in the afternoon he would excite no notice,and the story to the ostler would very well account for his taking thehouse and for his habit of coming up here of an afternoon and returninglate. I thought it best to come back and tell you, and I will adopt anyplan that you suggest for his capture."
"You say that he has been there for nearly a year?"
"About a year, the ostler said."
"Then one of my men, at least, must have been very careless not tohave found him out long ago. Let me see;" and he took down a volume ofreports. "Streatham. Tomlinson has been here a fortnight making everyinquiry. 'No man of suspicious appearance or of unknown antecedentshere.'
"Humph! That is not the first time that Tomlinson has failed altogetherin his duty. However, that does not matter for the moment. What is yourown idea, Mr. Thorndyke?"
"My idea is that a couple of good men should go down with me toStreatham, and that we should be always on the watch in High Streetuntil we see him ride past. Directly it is dark we will go to his house,fasten the old woman up, and search it thoroughly. If we find stolenproperty so much the better; but in any case we shall wait inside thehouse until he returns, and as he comes in throw ourselves upon himbefore he has time to draw a pistol. I should say it would be as wellthe men should go down in a trap. There is an empty house next door, andwhen we go to search the place we can leave the horse and trap insidethe gate. Directly we have him secure we can fetch up the trap, put himin, and one of the men and myself can drive him back here, leaving theother in charge of the house, which can then be searched again nextday."
"I think that will be a very good plan, and will avoid all unnecessaryfuss. I will send Malcolm and Chester down with you tomorrow. Where willyou meet them?"
"I should say that they had better put up at the Greyhound. I don'tsuppose
he will go out until six or seven o'clock, but they had betterbe there earlier. One should station himself in the main street, theother concealing himself somewhere beyond the fellow's house, for it islikely enough that sometimes he may take the other way. I will go downto the Greyhound at six, and will wait there until one of them brings menews that he has left."
"I think you had better come in in the morning, and give yourinstructions to the men; there will be less fear of any mistake beingmade. I should say you had better put your horse up and come here onfoot; one can never be too careful when one is dealing with so craftya rogue as this; he certainly does not work with an accomplice, but forall that he may have two or three sharp boys in his pay, and they maywatch this place by turns and carry him news of any stir about theoffice."
"I will walk in," Mark replied. "It is no distance from Stockwell."
Mark slept but little that night. He had believed all along that heshould be finally successful, but the discovery had come so suddenlythat it had taken him completely by surprise. It might not be the man,and he tried hard to persuade himself that the chances were against hisbeing so, so that he should not feel disappointed should it turn outthat it was some other criminal, for that the man was a criminal he hadnot a shadow of doubt.
The next morning he was at the office early. The chief arrived half anhour later, and the two officers were at once called in.
"You will go with Mr. Thorndyke," the chief said, "and he will give youinstructions. The capture is a very important one, and there must be nomistake made. We believe the man to be Bastow. I think you were presentat his trial, Chester; he escaped from Sydney Convict Prison somethree years ago, and is, I believe, the author of many of the highwayrobberies and burglaries that have puzzled us so. Of course, you willtake firearms, but if he is alone you will certainly have no occasionto use them, especially as you will take him completely by surprise.You will order a gig from Morden, and leave here about three o'clock. Ishould say you had better get up as two countrymen who have been upto market. However, Mr. Thorndyke will explain the whole matter to youfully."
Mark then went off with the two officers to a private room, and wentinto the whole matter with them.
"I think, Chester," he said, "that you had better watch in the HighStreet, because you know the man. At least, you have seen him, and mayrecognize him again."
"I think I should know him, however much he has changed. I tookparticular notice of him at the trial, and thought what a hardenedlooking young scamp he was. It is very seldom I forget a face when onceI have a thorough look at it, and I don't think I am likely to forgethis."
"Malcolm, I think you cannot do better than take your place in thegarden of the house next to his; it is a place that has stood empty formany months, and there is no chance of anyone seeing you. His paddockcomes up to the garden, and you can, by placing yourself in the corner,see him as he comes out into the lane. As soon as you see that he hasgone, come back to the Greyhound with the news. I shall be there, andyou will pick up Chester in the High Street as you come along; of courseyou won't pretend to know me, but the mere fact of your coming back willbe enough to tell me that he has gone. As soon as it gets dark we willpay our reckoning, and drive off in the gig, leaving it in the drive infront of the house this side of his. I shall have strolled off before,and shall be waiting for you there. If he does not come out by teno'clock we can give it up for tonight. You had better say that you havechanged your mind, and will take beds at the Greyhound; and the nextmorning drive off in your gig and put up again at the inn at the otherend of the town, the White Horse. I will come over again at two o'clockin the afternoon. You will bring handcuffs, and you had better alsobring a stout rope to tie him with."
When every detail had been arranged, Mark strolled to Dick Chetwynd'slodgings.
"Well, Mark what has become of you? I have not seen you for the last twomonths, and I hear that you have not been near Ingleston's crib since Isaw you."
"No, I have been away on business. You know I told you that I wasspending much of my time in endeavoring to hunt down my father'smurderer. I can tell you now that I have been working all the time withthe Bow Street people, and I think I know every thieves' slum in Londonas well as any constable in the town."
"You don't say so, Mark! Well, I should not like such work as that. Theprize fighters are a pretty rough lot, but to go to such dens as thoseis enough to make one shudder. But that does not explain where you havebeen now."
"No. Well, having persuaded myself at last that his headquarters werenot in town, I have been trying the villages round, and I believe that Ihave laid my hands on him at last."
"You don't say so, Mark! Well, I congratulate you heartily, both on yourhaving caught the fellow and for having got rid of such horrid work.Where is he? Have you got him lodged in jail?"
"No, we are going to capture him tonight; or if not tonight, tomorrownight. Two of the Bow Street officers are going down with me, and weshall have him as he comes home from one of his expeditions either onthe highway or as a house breaker. If he does not go this evening weshall wait until tomorrow, but at any rate, the first time that he goesout we shall have him."
"I have got a special engagement for this evening, Mark, or I wouldoffer to go with you and lend you a hand, if necessary."
"There is no occasion for that, Dick. We shall take the fellow bysurprise as he goes into his own house, and have him handcuffed beforehe can draw a pistol. Then, when we have got him fairly tied up, weshall put him into a light cart that we shall have handy, and bring himstraight to Bow Street. To tell you the truth, I am so excited over thethought that I do not know how I should have got through the day if Ihad not come in to have a chat with you."
"I can quite understand that, old fellow. Well, the best thing we can dois to take a stroll out and look at the fashions. It is early yet, butjust at present it is all the rage to turn out early. It will do megood too, for I was at Ingleston's last night, and the smoke and row hasgiven me a headache. I shall really have to give up going there, exceptwhen there is an important fight on. It is too much to stand, and thetobacco is so bad that I am obliged to keep a suit of clothes for thepurpose. Let us be off at once."
