At that moment his eye fell upon a face that thrust itself forward out of the press; his gaze encountered the eager scrutiny of a grim, green eye, behind glass.  It was the eye of Widow Spink.

“It’s him,” cried the widow.  She rushed for ward; she battered at the Missing Link with her umbrella, and the terrified animal retreated to his straw.  “You villain!” screamed Mrs. Spink, “you double-dyed, lyin’ villain, I’ve got you!” She was reaching as far as possible through the bars, prodding at the man-monkey, and the audience were gazing in stupid surprise.

“Madam, madam, my dear madam!” expostulated the Professor, “you must not irritate the animals.”

He pulled her back from the cage.

“Don’t tell me,” cried the justly-indignant widow.  “I know him I’d know him out of a thousand, robber of the widow and the orphan that he is.”

The Professor spoke to her soothingly.

“There, there, madam, do not excite yourself, you’ll be all right in the morning.”

“Meanin’ I’m drunk!” shrieked the widow, raising her gingham threateningly.  “I know what I’m talking about.  He promised me marriage.”

She made another lunge at the Missing Link.

“Yes, he did; he said we’d be married in a fortnight, the villain, and I’ll have the law on him.”

“Most distressing hallucination,” said the Professor, pressing Mrs. Spink through the crowd.  “Will nobody take charge of the poor lady?”

He pushed her towards the door, the crowd following, delighted with the unexpected diversion, confident that Mrs. Spink was drunk or mad.  The widow retired, fighting, the people pressing her.

“I’ll have the law on him,” screamed Mrs. Spink.  “I’ll have a thousand pounds damages for breach of promise.  I’ll teach him, deceivin’ a lone widder, the villain!”

Outside she enlarged upon her wrongs, telling the crowd of the infamous conduct of these actors, who go about the country imposing upon innocence and virtue.  She went off, still flourishing her sturdy gamp, and reiterating her determination to have the law on the infamous Missing Link.

“That widow means business, Crips, my boy,” said the Professor after the show; “somethin’s got to be done.  She swears she’ll see a lawyer, and she will.  Now look here, I can’t have my Missing Link dragged into a law suit.  If you get sued for breach of promise, you’re no good to me, the game’s up so far as missing links are concerned, and my show’s reputation gone.  Is this to be the end of a long and honoured public career?  What’s to be done?”

Madame Marve, Letitia, Matty Cann, Nickie, and even the educated pig sat in council to consider ways and means of averting the pending catastrophe, and Nickie bore the fierce rebukes showered upon him with proper humbleness.  Never was seen a more depressed and humiliated missing link.

The next day was Sunday and in the morning, dressed becomingly in his part as the naturalist and teacher, Professor Thunder called upon the Widow Spink at “The Nook,” and held a long consultation with her.  As a result of the Professor’s arguments, the lady was persuaded to visit the Museum of Marvels and have a private audience with the Missing Link.