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Two sovereigns gleamed in Grayson's bare outstretched palm.

"I'll double it if you drive fast," he offered.

"All right, sir," answered the man at length, a bit sullenly. "Jump in." He turned his horse round and drove rapidly toward the river.

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The fog was still heavy and the blurred street-lamps looked ghastly in the yellow mist when the young messenger, the first half of his mission performed, struck briskly riverward to complete his business. He disposed of his violets at a corner stand, hailed a passing hansom boldly, and after a low consultation with the driver, got in. They drove steadily for an hour. The gas-lamps grew fewer, and the streets more narrow and gloomy.

Suddenly the man drew up with a jerk.

"Here ye be," he called huskily.

The boy sprang to the ground and peered about him. "It'll do," he announced, and then briefly, "Wait 'arf an hour."

He plunged down a dark and crabbed way, glancing warily behind him now and then to see if he was being followed.