"I must return to London immediately, and you must go with me, mother," I continued. "To London!" exclaimed Mrs. Challis. "Indeed she must not go to London!" "Indeed she must!" I added, as decidedly as though I meant to break through a stone wall, if need be. "Get ready as quick as you can, mother, for there is not more than time enough for us to reach the station." "I say she cannot go!" interposed Mrs. Challis. "And I say she can and shall! Get your clothes, mother." "There is three pound five due for her board," added the landlady. "Give me the bill, and I will pay it." My mother seemed to be bewildered, but I led her to the house, and urged her to prepare for her journey. Mrs. Challis, after I had paid her bill, continued to object to the departure of her boarder. I told her if she wished to keep out of trouble, the less she said, the better it would be for her. My poor mother had been so long a prisoner, that she was confused by the sudden change in her prospects. I went into her room, and assisted her in packing her meagre wardrobe. She had put on a well-worn black silk dress, and an antiquated bonnet lay on the table. I told her to take only such clothing as she would need immediately, for I saw that most of her wearing apparel was not worth the transportation. Having thrust these articles into a carpet-bag, I hurried her out of the house to the carriage which was waiting for me at the door. We reached the station in time for the London train. My mother was excited, and I did not permit her to speak of the past. I kept up a lively conversation, and did not allow her to think of her wrongs and her sorrows. On our arrival, we went to Morley's, where I obtained a room for her. Mr. Solomons had just arrived. He had received the telegraphic despatch in Liverpool. I hastily told him my story, and what I had done since my arrival in London. "My dear boy!" exclaimed he, "you have done wonders. I was sure you were lost overboard. No one had seen you, or heard anything of you; only the officers and sailors had warned you not to sit on the rail." "Where is Dunkswell?" I asked. "He came to London in the same train I did." At my request Mr. Solomons accompanied me to the office of Bunyard. When we entered, Dunkswell was there. Both of them had found out that "somebody" was smart. "Young man, you have deceived me!" said Bunyard, savagely. "The wicked deceiveth himself," I replied, in words better than my own. "I have called to say that you need give yourself no further trouble in regard to Mrs. Thornton. I wish to tell you now that she is in London, and that she is my mother." "I must be paid--" "Paid!" I interposed. "I'll pay you! We are not far from Newgate, and if my mother is willing, I will help you to lodgings there. As for you, E. Dunkswell, you can go back to Tom Thornton, and tell him you have burnt your fingers. You helped me overboard." "I!" exclaimed he, with quivering lip. "Did he?" asked Mr. Solomons.