“Ah!” said Mr. Bucket.  “Here we are, and a nice retired place it is.  Puts a man in mind of the country house in the Woodpecker-tapping, that was known by the smoke which so gracefully curled.  They’re early with the kitchen fire, and that denotes good servants.  But what you’ve always got to be careful of with servants is who comes to see ’em; you never know what they’re up to if you don’t know that.  And another thing, my dear.  Whenever you find a young man behind the kitchen-door, you give that young man in charge on suspicion of being secreted in a dwelling-house with an unlawful purpose.”

We were now in front of the house; he looked attentively and closely at the gravel for footprints before he raised his eyes to the windows.

“Do you generally put that elderly young gentleman in the same room when he’s on a visit here, Miss Summerson?” he inquired, glancing at Mr. Skimpole’s usual chamber.

“You know Mr. Skimpole!” said I.

“What do you call him again?” returned Mr. Bucket, bending down his ear.  “Skimpole, is it?  I’ve often wondered what his name might be.  Skimpole.  Not John, I should say, nor yet Jacob?”

“Harold,” I told him.

“Harold.  Yes.  He’s a queer bird is Harold,” said Mr. Bucket, eyeing me with great expression.

“He is a singular character,” said I.

“No idea of money,” observed Mr. Bucket.  “He takes it, though!”

I involuntarily returned for answer that I perceived Mr. Bucket knew him.

“Why, now I’ll tell you, Miss Summerson,” he replied.  “Your mind will be all the better for not running on one point too continually, and I’ll tell you for a change.  It was him as pointed out to me where Toughey was.  I made up my mind that night to come to the door and ask for Toughey, if that was all; but willing to try a move or so first, if any such was on the board, I just pitched up a morsel of gravel at that window where I saw a shadow.  As soon as Harold opens it and I have had a look at him, thinks I, you’re the man for me.  So I smoothed him down a bit about not wanting to disturb the family after they was gone to bed and about its being a thing to be regretted that charitable young ladies should harbour vagrants; and then, when I pretty well understood his ways, I said I should consider a fypunnote well bestowed if I could relieve the premises of Toughey without causing any noise or trouble.  Then says he, lifting up his eyebrows in the gayest way, ’It’s no use mentioning a fypunnote to me, my friend, because I’m a mere child in such matters and have no idea of money.’  Of course I understood what his taking it so easy meant; and being now quite sure he was the man for me, I wrapped the note round a little stone and threw it up to him.  Well!  He laughs and beams, and looks as innocent as you like, and says, ’But I don’t know the value of these things.  What am I to do with this?’ ‘Spend it, sir,’ says I.  ‘But I shall be taken in,’ he says, ’they won’t give me the right change, I shall lose it, it’s no use to me.’  Lord, you never saw such a face as he carried it with!  Of course he told me where to find Toughey, and I found him.”