He felt almost maudlin at the sacrifice of character he was enduring for the sake of his old master, and the fact that he could not narrate it to sympathetic friends was not the least of his troubles.
[Illustration: "It was not until he had consumed a pint or two of the strongest brew that he began to regain some of his old self-esteem."] The shops had closed by the time he got into the street again, and he walked down and watched with much solemnity the reflection of the quay lamps in the dark water of the harbour.

The air was keen and the various craft distinct in the starlight.

Perfect quiet reigned aboard the Seabird, and after a vain attempt to screw up his courage to see the victim taken aboard he gave it up and walked back along the beach.
By the time he turned his steps homewards it was nearly eleven o'clock.
Fullalove Alley was quiet, and after listening for some time at his window he turned the handle of the door and passed in.

The nearly empty bottle stood on the table, and an over-turned tumbler accounted for a large, dark patch on the table-cloth.

As he entered the room the kitchen door opened and Mr.Nathan Smith, with a broad smile on his face, stepped briskly in.
"All over," he said, rubbing his hands; "he went off like a lamb, no trouble nor fighting.