“So you wanted to take me unawares?”

“What do you mean, Grandfather?”

“You know what I mean well enough.  However, I’ll tell you, you have been on the tramp; you have no money; but you thought your legs would carry you where your heart wanted to be.  Shall I go on?”

“Oh, yes, you may say anything you fancy.  Stay, I’ll say it for you.  Yesterday I walked to Northbury.  Northbury is over twenty miles from here.  I walked every step of the way.  In the evening I got there—­I was footsore and weary.  I had one and sixpence in my purse, no more for food, no more for bribes, no more for anything.  I went to Northbury to see the Bertrams—­to see that fine lady, that beloved friend of mine, Mrs. Bertram.  She was from home.  You probably know where she really was.  I bribed the gatekeeper, and got into the grounds of Rosendale Manor.  I frightened a chit of a schoolgirl, a plain, little, unformed, timorous creature.  She was a Bertram, coming home from a late dissipation.  She spoke of her fright, and gave her sister the cue.  About midnight Catherine Bertram came out to seek me.  What’s the matter, Grand-dad?”

“Good heavens!  Nina, that glib tongue of yours has not been blabbing.  Catherine!  What is Miss Bertram’s Christian name to you?”

“Never mind.  Her Christian name, and she herself also, are a good deal to me.  As to blabbing, I never blab; I saw her, she spoke to me; I slept at the lodge; I returned home to-day.”

“You walked home?”

“Yes, and I am dead tired; I want to go to bed now.”

“You can’t for a few minutes.  I have a few words to say first.  Josephine, I have always been a good grandfather to you.”

“Perhaps you have done your best, Grand-dad, but your best has not been much.  I am clothed after a fashion, and fed after a style, and educated!” she filliped her slender fingers scornfully; “educated!  I belong to the self-taught.  Still, after your lights, you have been a good Grand-dad.  Now, what is all this preamble about?  I can scarcely keep my eyes open.  If you are not quick your words will soon fall unregarded, for I shall be in the arms of that god of delight, Morpheus.”

“I have something very important to say, child.  I want to lay a command upon you.”

“What is that?”

“You are not to act the spy on the Bertrams again.”

“The spy?  What do you mean?”

“What I say.  You are not to do it.  I have made arrangements, and the Bertrams are to be unmolested.  I have given my oath, and you must abide by it.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Then we part company.  You go one way, I another.  You are truly a beggar, and can take up no other position without my aid.  You have a story to tell which no one will believe, for I alone hold the proofs.  Talk much about your fine secret, and what will be the result?  People will think you off your head.  Be guided by me, and all comes right in the end and in the meantime we share the spoils.”