'Nobody shall do anything to you,' said David, decidedly. 'You're a brick. But look here--can you tell me anything more?' She commanded herself with great difficulty, and told all she knew. David leant against the wall beside her, twisting a meditative lip. The situation was ominous, certainly. He had always known that his tenure was precarious, but from various indications he had supposed that it would be some years yet before his side of the street was much meddled with. That old fox! He must go and see Mr. Ancrum. A passion of hate and energy rose within him. Somehow or other he would pull through. When Lucy had finished the tale of her eavesdroppings, the young fellow shook himself and stood erect. 'Well, I _am_ obliged to you, Miss Purcell. And now I'll just go straight off and talk to somebody that I think'll help me. But I'll see you to Market Street first.' 'Oh!--somebody will see us!' she cried in a fever, 'and tell father.' 'Not they; I'll keep a look out.' Then suddenly, as they walked along together, a great shyness fell upon them both. Why had she done this thing, and run the risk of her father's wrath? As David walked beside her, he felt for an instant, through all his gratitude, as though some one had thrown a lasso round him, and the cord were tightening. He could not have explained the feeling, but it made him curt and restive, absorbed, apparently, in his own thoughts. Meanwhile Lucy's heart swelled and swelled. She _did_ think he would have taken her news differently--have made more of it and her. She wished she had never come--she wished she had brought Dora. The familiar consciousness of failure, of insignificance, returned, and the hot tears rose in her eyes. At Market Street she stopped him hurriedly. 'Don't come any farther. I can get home.' David, meanwhile, was saying to himself that he was a churlish brute; but for the life of him he could not get out any pretty speeches worthy of the occasion. 'I'm sure I take it most kind of you, Miss Purcell. There's nothing could have saved me if you hadn't told. And I don't know whether I can get out of it now. But if ever I can do anything for you, you know--' 'Oh, never mind!--never mind!' she said, incoherently, stabbed by his constraint. 'Good night.' And she ran away into the darkness, choked by the sorest tears she had ever shed. David, meanwhile, went on his way to Ancrum, scourging himself. If ever there was an ungrateful cur, it was he! Why could he find nothing nice to say to that girl in return for all her pluck? Of course she would get into trouble. Coming to see him at that time of night, too! Why, it was splendid! Yet, all the same, he knew perfectly well that if she had been there beside him again, he would have been just as tongue-tied as before. CHAPTER VII On the following night David walked into the Parlour about eight o'clock, hung up his hat with the air of an emperor, and looked round for Daddy.