"That's the same; a fine gal too, a reg'lar fine gal. Vell, I'd no sooner got Tony's traps over at my place than that gal comes to me, and she says, 'You've got a desk that b'longed to Tony Butler,' she says. And ven I says 'yes,' she offered me a pound for it. It vosn't vuth five shillings; so I knew there vos something in it she vanted, though I'd hunted it through and found nothin' but old diaries and memorandums and such-like. 'I von't sell it,' I says. 'May I look at it?' she says. 'You may,' I says; and vith that I fetched it down; and ven she see it, she touched a spring, and out flew a secret drawer vith this bill in it. 'Hands off,' I says, for she vos going to clutch it at vunce. 'Let me have it,' she says; 'I'll pay for it.' So I looked at it, and saw it had been overdue eighteen months, and reckleckted hearin' it was all wrong; so I says, 'Vot'll you give?' 'A sovereign,' she says. 'Make it two, and it's yours,' I says. So, after a little, she give me two skivs, and she took the bill and valked away vith it." Mr. Effingham looked at Griffiths, and the latter returned the glance. "It would be almost worth another crown to know if these are lies you are telling us, old gentleman," said the former; "but it sounds something like truth. Now one question more. Where is Lizzie Ponsford?" "Ah, that beats me. A reg'lar clever gal; nice-looking and reg'lar clever. I'd have given something to find out myself; but it vos all of no use. She vent avay from all the old haunts, and hasn't been heard of for a long time. I've all sorts of people about, and they'd tell me, bless you, if she'd ever show'd up. But she's gone, and no vun can find her." "Very good," said Effingham; "now you take this commission from me. If you hear of her within the next month, and can let me know where she is, find out Griffiths at Johnson's, and it'll be a fiver in your pocket. You understand?" Mr. Lyons made no verbal reply, but struck his forefinger against his nose and looked preternaturally sagacious. "All right! now goodbye;" they shook hands and parted. When they got into the street again Mr. Effingham said, "So Lizzie Ponsford has the bill. What the deuce made her want it? unless some day to revenge herself on Mitford. But she's not likely to have heard of his having turned up such trumps. Now, Mr. Griffiths, our pursuit begins again. Lizzie Ponsford has that bill. Your business and mine is to find out Lizzie Ponsford, and by some means or other--no matter what--get that bill from her." CHAPTER XIII. SIR CHARLES'S VISIT.