The landlady, anxious to produce as great a sensation as she could, made no more ado, but informed her that her “good man” had been found lying on his back in a gutter in Wild Street, Drury Lane, and that it was a mercy that he hadn’t been druv over by one of them Safety Cabs as was dashing along, as they always does, at the risk of people’s lives. The circumstance of the messenger having brought Cursty’s card with him was sufficient to preclude all doubt from Mrs. Sandboys’ mind; nevertheless she sat for a minute or two wondering how the misfortune could possibly have happened. At one moment she imagined that the loss of his bank notes had produced so depressing an effect on his spirits that Cursty had gone into some tavern to procure a glass of wine, in the hopes of cheering himself up amid his many misfortunes, and being unaccustomed to take anything of the kind before dinner, had perhaps been suddenly overcome by it. The next minute she felt satisfied that he had been entrapped into some dreadful place and drugged, like poor dear Jobby. Then she began to ask herself whether he could have lighted upon any friend from Cumberland, and in the excitement of the meeting been induced to take a glass or two more than he otherwise would; and immediately after this she felt half convinced that Cursty had discovered the flower-seller, and been so delighted at recovering possession of his pocket-book, that he had accompanied the fellow to some “low place” to treat him, and there, perhaps, been imprudent enough to take a glass of hot spirits and water “on an empty stomach,” and that this had flown to his head, and rendered him quite insensible to everything around him; or else she was satisfied that it was owing to the nasty bit of red herring which he would have that morning for breakfast. When Mrs. Sandboys communicated to Mrs. Fokesell the several results of her ruminations, that lady was far from being of the same opinion, and did not hesitate to confess that she had long been convinced that the men were all alike, and that, for herself, she wouldn’t trust anyone of them—and especially her Fokesell—further than she could see him. Mrs. Sandboys, however, was in no humour to listen to such harangues, and starting from her seat, desired to know whether the messenger from the station-house was still below stairs, so that she might accompany him back to her husband. On being answered in the affirmative, she proceeded to “put on her things” with all speed, while Elcy, with her eyes still full of tears, implored to be allowed to go with her. When her toilet was finished, she kissed her gentle-hearted daughter previous to leaving her (for it was not fit, she said, that young girls should visit such places), and bidding her dry up her tears, for that all would yet be right, she hastened down the stairs, and in a minute afterwards she was on her way, in company with the messenger, towards Bow-street station-house.