“Well, Squire,” answered his retainer, looking marvellously knowing, “I don’t rightly know, but there’s a cheap train goes up to this here Exhibition on the Tuesday morning and comes back on the Thursday evening.  Ten shillings both ways, that’s the fare, and I see in the Chronicle, I du, that there’s a wonnerful show of these new-fangled self-tying and delivering reapers, sich as they foreigners use over sea in America, and I’m rarely fell on seeing them and having a holiday look round Lunnon town.  So as there ain’t not nothing particler a-doing, if you hain’t got anything to say agin it, I think I’ll go, Squire.”

“All right,” said the Squire; “are you going to take your wife with you?”

“Why no, Squire; I said as I wanted to go for a holiday, and that ain’t no holiday to take the old missus too,” and George chuckled in a manner which evidently meant volumes.

And so it came to pass that on the afternoon of the day of the transfer of the mortgages from Edward Cossey to Mr. Quest the great George found himself wandering vaguely about the vast expanse of the Colinderies, and not enjoying himself in the least.  He had been recommended by some travelled individual in Boisingham to a certain lodging near Liverpool Street Station, which he found with the help of a friendly porter.  Thence he set out for the Exhibition, but, being of a prudent mind, thought that he would do well to save his money and walk the distance.  So he walked and walked till he was tired, and then, after an earnest consultation with a policeman, he took a ’bus, which an hour later landed him—­at the Royal Oak.  His further adventures we need not pursue; suffice it to say that, having started from his lodging at three, it was past seven o’clock at night when he finally reached the Exhibition, more thoroughly wearied than though he had done a good day’s harvesting.

Here he wandered for a while in continual dread of having his pocket picked, seeking reaping machines and discovering none, till at length he found himself in the gardens, where the electric light display was in full swing.  Soon wearying of this, for it was a cold damp night, he made a difficult path to a buffet inside the building, where he sat down at a little table, and devoured some very unpleasant-looking cold beef.  Here slumber overcame him, for his weariness was great, and he dozed.

Presently through the muffled roar and hum of voices which echoed in his sleep-dulled ears, he caught the sound of a familiar name, that woke him up “all of a heap,” as he afterwards said.  The name was “Quest.”  Without moving his body he opened his eyes.  At the very next table to his own were seated two people, a man and a woman.  He looked at the latter first.  She was clad in yellow, and was very tall, thin and fierce-looking; so fierce-looking that George involuntarily jerked his head back, and brought it with painful force in contact with the wall.  It was the Tiger herself, and her companion was the coarse, dreadful-looking man called Johnnie, whom she had sent away in the cab on the night of Mr. Quest’s visit.