“London ye knows,” explained the assistant, “but this here is full of hins and houts, and folyidge.”

“Oh, sir,” cried Lucy to the best-dressed captor, “surely you will not be so cruel as to take a gentleman like Captain Kenealy to prison?”

“Very sorry, marm, but we ’ave no hoption:  takes ’em every day; don’t we, Bill?”

Bill nodded.

“But, sir, as it is only for money, can you not be induced by—­by—­money—­”

“Bill, lady’s going to pay the debtancosts.  Show her the ticket.  Debt eighty pund, costs seven pund eighteen six.”

“What! will you liberate him if I pay you eighty-eight pounds?”

“Well, marm, to oblige you we will; won’t we, Bill?”

He winked.  Bill nodded.

“Then pray stay here a minute, and this shall be arranged to your entire satisfaction”; and she glided swiftly away, followed by Jane, wriggling.

“Quite the lady, Bill.”

“Kevite.  Captn is in luck.  Hare ve to be at the vedding, capn?”

“Dem your impudence!  I’ll cross-buttock yah!”

“Hold your tongue, Bill—­queering a gent.  Draw it mild, captain.  Debtancosts ain’t paid yet.  Here they come, though.”

Lucy returned swiftly, holding aloft a slip of paper.

“There, sir, that is a check for 90 pounds; it is the same thing as money, you are doubtless aware.”  The man took it and inspected it keenly.

Very sorry, marm, but can’t take it.  It’s a lady’s check.”

“What! is it not written properly?”

“Beautiful, marm.  But when we takes these beautiful-wrote checks to the bank, the cry is always, ‘No assets.’”

“But Uncle Bazalgette said everybody would give me money for it.”

“What! is Mr. Bazalgette your uncle, marm? then you go to him, and get his check in place of yours, and the captain will be free as the birds in the hair.”

“Oh, thank you, sir,” cried Lucy, and the next minute she was in Mr. Bazalgette’s study.  “Uncle, don’t be angry with me:  it is for no unworthy purpose; only don’t ask me; it might mortify another; but would you give me a check of your own for mine?  They will not receive mine.”

Mr. Bazalgette looked grave, and even sad; but he sat quietly down without a word, and drew her a check, taking hers, which he locked in his desk.  The tears were in Lucy’s eyes at his gravity and his delicacy.  “Some day I will tell you,” said she.  “I have nothing to reproach myself, indeed—­indeed.”

“Make the rogue—­or jade—­give you a receipt,” groaned Bazalgette.

“All right, marm, this time.  Captain, the world is hall before you where to chewse.  But this is for ninety, marm;” and he put his hand very slowly into his pocket.

“Do me the favor to keep the rest for your trouble, sir.”

“Trouble’s a pleasure, marm.  It is not often we gets a tip for taking a gent.  Ve are funk shin hairies as is not depreciated, mam, and the more genteel we takes ’em the rougher they cuts; and the very women no more like you nor dark to light; but flies at us like ryal Bengal tigers, through taking of us for the creditors.”