"What the devil are you suggesting?" I demanded angrily. "I suggest as you found same young woman in a vood at midnight and carried 'er to a inn called the 'Soaring Lark.'" "Good heavens!" I exclaimed. "That unfortunate creature?" "That werry same i-dentical, sir--a wictim o' wiciousness as your late lamented uncle, Sir Jervas, God bless 'im--amen!--saved from des'prit courses--" "My uncle Jervas--" I exclaimed. "Saved from des'prit courses!" repeated Mr. Shrig. "Himself, sir. Lord love him, 'e was always a-doin' of it; many a pore soul, male and female, 'e's saved from the river--ah, and worse as well, I know--ekally ready wi' fist or purse, ah, by Goles, an' vat vas better, with 'ope for the 'elpless an' 'elp for them as it seemed nothin' nor nobody could reach 'cept the law--a friend to them as thought they 'ad no friend but death. A fine gentleman, sir--yes, a tippy, a go, a bang-up blood, a reg'lar 'eavy-toddler, but most of all--a man! And I says again, God bless 'im an' 'is memory--amen!" "Amen!" I repeated, while Mr. Shrig, tugging at something in the depths of a capacious side pocket, eventually drew thence a large, vivid-hued handkerchief and blew his nose resoundingly; which done, he blinked at me, surely the mildest-seeming man in all the world, despite the brass-mounted pistol which, disturbed in its lurking place by the sudden extrication of the handkerchief, peeped at me grimly from his pocket. "Mr. Shrig, I should like to shake your hand," said I. "'Eartily an' vith a vill, sir!" he answered. "You see, I loved and honoured him also, Mr. Shrig." "Verefore an' therefore, sir, I make bold to ask if you're partic'ler busy to-day?" "I am here to meet a friend and then I am for the country." "Tonbridge vay, sir?" "Yes, why do you ask?" "Because I've a call thereabouts myself to-day, an' if you vas minded to go along, I'd be honoured, sir, honoured." "Thank you, Mr. Shrig, but--" I paused, for among the pile of unopened letters I espied one addressed in a familiar hand and, breaking the seal, read: MY DEAR PERRY: Strong drink is raging, so am I, and London is the devil! Temptation dogs me, but a promise is a promise, so I have scuttled off ignominiously. You will find me at the Chequers Inn, Tonbridge, if I am not there to meet you, wait for me. By the way, ale is exempt from your proscription, of course. Yours to command now as ever, ANTHONY VERE-MANVILLE. "Mr. Shrig," said I, pocketing this letter, "when, pray, do you propose to start Tonbridge way?" "This werry moment, sir." "Why, then I shall be happy to accompany you." "Are ye ready, sir?" "Quite; let us go!" So side by side we stepped out into the street; here Mr. Shrig, setting two fingers to his mouth, emitted a shrill whistle and round the corner came a tilbury behind a likely-looking horse driven by a red-faced man, who, at a sign from Mr. Shrig, descended from the lofty seat, into which we climbed forthwith.