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"Who said that?" shouted Mr Lawrence, with the blood red in his face. "He's a mighty fine feller," cried Maurice enthusiastically. "I'll speak to Miss Acton. I am sure she will have something that is good for rheumatism, and if she has I will send it you.".

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"My daughter, sir!" cried Captain Acton. The old man put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the letter, which he held on his knee, whilst he continued: "It was not addressed, as you will presently see, but[Pg 210] the contents which I took the liberty of reading, the letter being open and manifestly a stray article which was anybody's property, assured me that it had just now fallen from the pocket of Mr Lawrence, who had brought it out possibly with his pocket-handkerchief, but who would not know of his loss by looking behind him as the turn of the road hid it from him. I was greatly astounded by the contents of this letter, which is in Mr Lawrence's handwriting, and somewhat incensed by reading that he termed me an old scamp, I, who had proved his friend at a time when friendship was valuable to him, and who have shown him every consideration since. Will you read the letter, sir?" His companion, a slight, stooped man, the sallowness of whose face was accentuated by a short black moustache, who had remained almost silent from the time he had entered the house, looked up at these words and smiled. "We owe that boy and this gentleman our lives," he said briefly. "An' that's why you throwed it," exclaimed the admiring Maurice. "Gosh, nobody else would'a thought of that.".