"Thank you, friend, whoever you are," said Aspel heartily, as he turned and followed the panting Mrs Murridge. But the "friend," instead of replying, seized Aspel by the arm and walked with him into the shop. "George Aspel!" he said. George looked down and beheld the all but awe-stricken visage of Philip Maylands. Without uttering a word the former sat down on the counter, and burst into a fit of half-savage laughter. "Ah, then, you may laugh till you grow fat," said Phil, "but it's more than that you must do if I'm to join you in the laugh." "What more can I do, Phil?" asked Aspel, wiping his eyes. "Sure, ye can explain," said Phil. "Well, sit down on the counter, and I'll explain," returned Aspel, shutting and locking the door. Then, mounting the stool, he entered into a minute explanation--not only in reference to his present position and circumstances but regarding his recent misfortunes. Phil's admiration and love for his friend were intense, but that did not altogether blind him to his faults. He listened attentively, sympathetically but gravely, and said little. He felt, somehow, that London was a dangerous place compared with the west of Ireland,--that his friend was in danger of something vague and undefined,--that he himself was in danger of--he knew not what. While the two were conversing they heard a step in the now quiet street. It advanced quickly, and stopped at the door. There was a rustling sound; something fell on the floor, and the step passed on. "It's only a few letters," said Aspel; "Mr Blurt explained matters to me this morning. They seem to have been a careless lot who have managed this business hitherto. A slit was made in the door for letters, but no box has ever been attached to the slit. The letters put through it at night are just allowed to fall on the floor, as you see, and are picked up in the morning. As I am not yet fully initiated into my duties, and don't feel authorised to open these, we will let them lie.--Hallo! look there." The last words were uttered in a low, soft tone. Phil Maylands glanced in his friend's face, and was directed by his eyes to a corner near the front door, where, from behind the shelter of an over-stuffed pelican of the wilderness, two intensely bright little eyes were seen glistening. The gradual advance of a sharp nose revealed the fact that their owner was a rat!