One lady was tall, dark, and stately, with a serious cast of countenance; the other, small, fair, and vivacious, a veritable fairy, all sparkle and sunshine; and the gentleman was a long, lean man with a saturnine expression, not by any means prepossessing. Burly Dr. Japix with his big frame, his big voice, and his big laugh, accompanied the trio to the door, talking in a subdued roar the whole time. "We'll set him up--set him up, Miss Florry, never fear--nerves--pooh! ha! ha! ha! nerves in a bridegroom. Who ever heard of such a thing?" "Ah, but you see you're a bachelor," said the golden-haired fairy, gaily; "a horrid old bachelor, who doesn't know anything except how to give people nasty medicine." "Hey! now, ha! ha! that's too bad. I always make your medicine nice. Wait till you're a matron, I'll make it nasty." "When I'm a matron," said Miss Florry, demurely, "I'll take no medicine except Spolger's Soother," at which speech the Doctor laughed, the lean man scowled, and the two ladies attended by the scowl, departed, while the Doctor turned to greet his new visitor. "Well, sir--well, sir--ha! may I be condemned to live on my own physic if it isn't M. Vidocq." "Eh, my dear Doctor, me voici. Dumas, my dear physician; you've read 'The Three Musqueteers,' of course." "Ha! ha! if you start quoting already," roared Japix, rolling ponderously into his study, followed by Fanks, "I give in at once; your memory, Mr. Thief-catcher, is cast-iron, and mine isn't. So I surrender at discretion. Now I'll be bound," continued the Doctor, waggishly, sitting in his huge chair, "you don't know where the quotation comes from." "I don't," replied Fanks, after a moment's thought, sitting down; "you score one, my dear Doctor. By the way, don't call me Thief-catcher." "Certainly not, Jonathan Wild." "Nor that either." "Why not, M. Fouche?" "The third is the worst of all. At present I'm nothing but Mr. Rixton--my own name, Dr. Japix, as I told you." "And Octavius Fanks?" "Is in the Seventh Circle of Hell--at the back of the North Wind--in Nubibus--anywhere except where Mr. Rixton is." "Ha! ha! hey! You're down here on business!" "Private business." "Ho! ho! and her name?" "Mary Anne. She's a housemaid, and I love her, oh, I love her, and her heart I would discover! Pish! pshaw! 'Hence, vain deluding joys.' Milton, my dear Doctor! his best poem. But really, I want to be serious." "Be serious, by all means," said Japix, complacently; "business first, pleasure afterwards. Dine with me to-night!" "No, I've got an engagement. Say seven to-morrow, and I accept." "'When found make a note of,'" remarked the Doctor, and scribbled a few lines in his memoranda-book. "Eh! Author?" "Dickens' Captain Cuttle." "Very good--go up top." "Are you going to be serious?" said Fanks, in despair. "My dear Rixton, I am serious," replied Dr. Japix, composing his features; "proceed!" "First, who were the people who left as I came in?"