For a moment Musky Mag disbelieved eyes and ears together. The visit itself, even more than the question, amazed and bewildered her. She had been prepared for any visitor but this. For Mrs. Grimes's relationship to Dan Ogle was a thing that exemplary lady made as close a secret as she could, as in truth was very natural. She valued herself on her respectability; she was the widow of a decent lighterman, of a decent lightering and wharf-working family, and she called herself "house-keeper" (though she might be scarce more than charwoman) at the Hole in the Wall. She had never acknowledged her lawless brother when she could in any way avoid it, and she had, indeed, bargained that he should not come near her place of employment, lest he compromise her; and so far from seeking him out in his lodgings, she even had a way of failing to see him in the street. What should she want in Blue Gate at such a time as this, asking thus urgently for her brother Dan? What but the reward? For an instant Mag's fears revived with a jump, though even as it came she put away the fancy that such might be the design of any sister, however respectable. "Where's my brother Dan?" repeated Mrs. Grimes, abruptly. "I--I don't know, mum," faltered Mag, husky and dull. "I ain't seen 'im for--for--some time." "O, nonsense. I want 'im particular. I got somethink to tell 'im important. If you won't say where 'e is, go an' find 'im." "I wish I could, mum, truly. But I can't." "Do you mean 'e's left you?" Mrs. Grimes bridled high, and helped it with a haughty sniff. "No, mum, not quite, in your way of speakin', I think, mum. But 'e's--'e's just gone away for a bit." "Ho. In trouble again, you mean, eh?" "O, no, mum, not there," Mag answered readily; for, with her, "trouble" was merely a genteel name for gaol. "Not there--not for a long while." "Where then?" "That's what I dunno, mum; not at all." Mrs. Grimes tightened her lips and glared; plainly she believed none of these denials. "P'raps 'e's wanted," she snapped, "an' keepin' out o' the way just now. Is that it?" This was what no torture would have made Mag acknowledge; but, with all her vehemence of denial, her discomposure was plain to see. "No, mum, not that," she declared, pleadingly. "Reely 'e ain't, mum--reely 'e ain't; not that!" "Pooh!" exclaimed Mrs. Grimes, seating herself with a flop. "That's a lie, plain enough. 'E's layin' up somewhere, an' you know it. What harm d'ye suppose I'm goin' to do 'im? 'E ain't robbed me--leastways not lately. I got a job for 'im, I tell you--money in 'is pocket. If you won't tell me, go an' tell 'im; go on. An' I'll wait." "It's Gawd's truth, mum, I don't know where 'e is," Mag protested earnestly. "'Ark! there's someone on the stairs! They'll 'ear. Go away, mum, do. I'll try an' find 'im an' tell 'im--s'elp me I will! Go away--they're comin'!"