"Where did I leave off? Oh! about my hearing this gentleman say, as he stood bareheaded in the rain, that he wished his rival were dead. Now that was a fortunate hearing for me. Not that I should take advantage of what I heard; not that I should go to the pretty girl's brother, and then tell him what I had heard the gentleman say about his sailor-friend; not that I should go to the pretty girl herself and say, 'Beware of the gentleman; he means mischief; if he can ruin your lover he will.' That would be a mean thing to do; for it would upset the gentleman's chances with the girl that he loves. No; I should go to the gentleman and say, 'I hate this absent lover, and any thing that I could do to make him suffer, I would do cheerfully. You would do the same. But you are a gentleman, and I am a dog. You mustn't be seen in the matter. What you want done do through me. Never mind how mean it is, how dirty it is; do it through me. And all the return I want for it is enough to buy food and shelter, and perhaps a drop of grog and a bit of tobacco.' That wouldn't be much to ask in return for what I may be able to do for him." "But no gentleman would compromise himself by entering into a bargain with a--a"-- "A dog, master--say a dog; it is good enough for me," interposed the Lascar with a careless laugh. "With a dog like you. I don't see how the affair could be arranged with a proper understanding as to what was expected to be done." "It could be arranged easily enough, master. I might ask the gentleman, supposing he had a flower in his button-bole, to give me that flower, and not say another word. That would be a proper understanding for both of us." Mr. Fewster rose, and put aside the curtain of the window. The rain was coming down hard and fast, and the wind was tearing furiously through the streets. "A fine storm for a ship to be in near rocks, master," said the Lascar, who had risen, and was standing by his side. "It is time for you to be going," said Mr. Fewster, turning abruptly away from the window. "In such a night as this!" exclaimed the Lascar. "And I with no place to put my head in?" "You are homeless, then?" The Lascar nodded. "Well, I take you into my service. It would be hard if no one could be found to do a good turn for a poor devil like you." "That it would, master," said the Lascar, standing in an attitude of expectation; "and thank you. Could you spare that flower out of your coat?" Blinded by passion, inflamed by jealousy, Mr. Fewster detached the flower, and threw it to the Lascar, whose eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he put it in his pocket. "You can sleep in the out-house," said Mr. Fewster; "and as every dog should have a kennel, I dare say you can find a coffin to lie in." "No, thank you, master; I will lie on the ground." He poured what remained of the rum into his glass, and raised it to his lips. "Here's luck, and my faithful service to you. You may depend upon me, for my heart is in my work."