“Come here, my lad,” said the Sergeant, “and let’s hear what you have got to tell us.”

The notice of the great man—­the hero of many a famous story in every lawyer’s office in London—­appeared to fascinate the boy.  He placed himself in front of Sergeant Cuff, and put his hands behind him, after the approved fashion of a neophyte who is examined in his catechism.

“What is your name?” said the Sergeant, beginning with the first question in the catechism.

“Octavius Guy,” answered the boy.  “They call me Gooseberry at the office because of my eyes.”

“Octavius Guy, otherwise Gooseberry,” pursued the Sergeant, with the utmost gravity, “you were missed at the bank yesterday.  What were you about?”

“If you please, sir, I was following a man.”

“Who was he?”

“A tall man, sir, with a big black beard, dressed like a sailor.”

“I remember the man!” I broke in.  “Mr. Bruff and I thought he was a spy employed by the Indians.”

Sergeant Cuff did not appear to be much impressed by what Mr. Bruff and I had thought.  He went on catechising Gooseberry.

“Well?” he said—­“and why did you follow the sailor?”

“If you please, sir, Mr. Bruff wanted to know whether Mr. Luker passed anything to anybody on his way out of the bank.  I saw Mr. Luker pass something to the sailor with the black beard.”

“Why didn’t you tell Mr. Bruff what you saw?”

“I hadn’t time to tell anybody, sir, the sailor went out in such a hurry.”

“And you ran out after him—­eh?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Gooseberry,” said the Sergeant, patting his head, “you have got something in that small skull of yours—­and it isn’t cotton-wool.  I am greatly pleased with you, so far.”

The boy blushed with pleasure.  Sergeant Cuff went on.

“Well? and what did the sailor do, when he got into the street?”

“He called a cab, sir.”

“And what did you do?”

“Held on behind, and run after it.”

Before the Sergeant could put his next question, another visitor was announced—­the head clerk from Mr. Bruff’s office.

Feeling the importance of not interrupting Sergeant Cuff’s examination of the boy, I received the clerk in another room.  He came with bad news of his employer.  The agitation and excitement of the last two days had proved too much for Mr. Bruff.  He had awoke that morning with an attack of gout; he was confined to his room at Hampstead; and, in the present critical condition of our affairs, he was very uneasy at being compelled to leave me without the advice and assistance of an experienced person.  The chief clerk had received orders to hold himself at my disposal, and was willing to do his best to replace Mr. Bruff.

I wrote at once to quiet the old gentleman’s mind, by telling him of Sergeant Cuff’s visit:  adding that Gooseberry was at that moment under examination; and promising to inform Mr. Bruff, either personally, or by letter, of whatever might occur later in the day.  Having despatched the clerk to Hampstead with my note, I returned to the room which I had left, and found Sergeant Cuff at the fireplace, in the act of ringing the bell.