up on his feet, and get him to believe that he was safe. He staggered up the bank to the pathway on the top of it, and gasped for breath.

"That—that—was a narrow shave!" said he.

"Ay, for them that goes out fooling in a white shirt," said Mr. Rowles.

"It is only my feet that are wet," remarked the stranger, beginning to recover his colour; "and I did not know there was any harm in a white shirt."

"No harm in the shirt if the man who wore it knew what he was about. Why, I've seen them go out in frock-coats and tall hats and kid gloves. I've seen them that did not know bow from stern; and then, when they are drowned, they are quite surprised."

"I don't know much about boating," returned the man; "but my gentleman said he thought I had better practise a bit, because he will want me to row him about of an evening. Well, another time I will keep out of the way of the steam-launches."

"You had better, sir. And put off your coat, and your waistcoat, and your watch and chain, and rig yourself out in a flannel shirt and a straw hat. And, pray, how are you going to get home?"

At this moment Mrs. Rowles came to the door, shading her eyes with her hand, for the sun was now bright and hot, and calling out "Phil—lip! Em—ily! time to be off."

The girl threw down her rope and obeyed her mother's call, but Philip lingered. He could not make out who and what the stranger might be.

That person said, "Perhaps, Mr. Rowles, you would let your boy come with me just to put me in the right way."

"No, no; he is going to school. You be off, Phil, before I look at you again."

So, rather unwillingly, Philip also retreated into the house, from whence he and Emily presently emerged with their books, and disappeared across the fields in the direction of the village, where their company was requested by the schoolmaster and the schoolmistress until four o'clock, with a long interval for dinner and play.

"I would let him go with you if it was not for his schooling," remarked Mr. Rowles; "but he must waste no time if he wants to get the prize. You won't get a prize for rowing. Why, some of them that comes here don't know what you mean by feathering!"

The stranger looked very humble. He was a middle-aged man of ordinary appearance, but extremely neat in his dress. His cloth clothes were all of spotless black, his necktie was black with a small white spot; he showed a good deal of fine shirt-front, and a pair of clean cuffs. Then his hair was carefully cut, and he had trimmed whiskers, but no beard or moustache. His hands were not those of a working-man, nor had they the look of those of a gentleman. Edward Rowles could not make him out.

"I'm sure you are not a boating man," said he.

"Oh, no! oh, dear no! I never rowed a boat before. Though I have been at sea: I have crossed the Channel with Mr. Burnet. But not rowing myself, of course."

"Who's Mr. Burnet?" asked Rowles.

"We are staying at the hotel," replied the stranger; "and what's more, I must be getting back, for he likes his breakfast at a quarter-past ten sharp. Can I get back another way? Can't I go down that river?"

He pointed up the stream which came swirling from the weir.

"No," said Rowles, "you can't go up the weir-stream, any more than you could leap a donkey over a turnpike-gate. Get into your boat, and pull yourself quietly up under the left-hand bank."

"I have no rope to pull it by," said the stranger meekly.

"They come down here," remarked Rowles with infinite contempt, and speaking to the river, "and don't know what you mean by pulling. They think it is the same as towing. If you'd rather tow your boat I will lend you a line, provided that you promise faithfully to return it. It is the missus's clothes-line. And you will keep her close under the bank of the towing-path, and you will pass under all the other lines which you meet. Do you see?"

"Oh, yes, thank you," said the stranger, anxious to be off. "My name is Roberts, with Mr. Burnet at the hotel; and you shall have the rope back again."

"Tie it round the bow thwart, as you have no mast," said Rowles.

Mr. Roberts stared.

"There, stand aside, I'll do it for you. They sit on a thwart and don't know what it is, half of them."

Grumbling and fumbling, Rowles at length got Roberts across the lock-gates and put the line into his hands, telling him to look out for barges and rapids; and then the stranger set off on his return journey, and Rowles went into his house to tell his wife that he thought they were a stupider lot this summer than ever they had been before.

CHAPTER II.

No. 103.

When Mrs. Rowles had put on her best gown and her Sunday bonnet she was as pleasant-looking a woman as one was likely to meet between Littlebourne and London. "Going to town" was rather an event in her life, and one that called for the best gown and bonnet as well as for three-and-fourpence to pay the fare.

"Ned never will go to see his sister," said Mrs. Rowles to herself. "I might as well try to move the lock as try to move him. And now that I have made up my mind to go I had better go, and get it over. Ned thinks that Londoners are too grand to care for their country relations. But I don't think Mary is too grand to give me a welcome. I don't want a fuss made over me, I am sure; and if I run up unexpected she won't be able to make a fuss with the dinner. And when it is six months since you heard from them it is about time for you to go and see them. I am not comfortable in my mind; six months is a long time. Suppose they had gone off to Australia! I really should not wonder!"

It was nearly time to start on her walk to the station.

Rowles looked into the cottage, and his wife explained to him how he was to manage his dinner.

"Ah, peas now!" he said, looking at the green pearls lying in water in a pudding basin. "They don't see such peas as those in London, I can tell you; and you'd be a deal welcomer, Emma, if you were to take them a basketful of green stuff. I suppose Thomas Mitchell has his supper for breakfast when he gets up at night, and begins his day's work at bed-time. He might like peas for breakfast at ten o'clock p.m.; likewise broad beans. Just you wait three minutes. I bear them no ill-will, though I never could approve of a man being an owl."

Within five minutes Rowles came back from his garden with a basket of fresh-smelling vegetables. He gave it to his wife, saying, "You be off, or you'll miss your train. Give them my love when they get up this evening. There's a call for the 'Lock a-hoy!' And here they come, girls in flannels and sailor hats, rowing for their lives, and men lolling on the cushions with fans and parasols."

The husband went to open the gates for one of those water-parties which are to be seen n but on the Thames, and Mrs. Rowles set off to walk to Littlebourne station.

She met with no adventures on her journey; reached Paddington safely, took an omnibus into the city, and then walked to one of the smaller streets on the eastern side of London.

This street was one which began with good, well-kept houses, and dwindled away into small ones out of repair. About