"Know him! Out o' ten thousand--out o' ten millions o' men. I only wish I knew the gal. It would be such a clue." "It's no use to be revengeful, Bill," I said. "Let it go. It brought Mary up to town." "Yes, it did, didn't it?" he said, with the sheepish, soft look coming over his face for a moment. But it was gone directly, and he was the officer once more. "'Taint revengeful," he said; "it's dooty. We can't let outrageous outrages like that take place in the main streets. No, Antony: I feel as if my reputation's at stake, to find out who did that, and I shan't rest till I do." We parted then, and the rest of the week passed swiftly away. I told Hallett that I was going to spend the afternoon out on the Saturday, so that most likely I should go to Miss Carr's on the Sunday, and he was not to expect me for my usual walk with him, one which had grown into a custom; and being thus clear, I went off in the morning to Westminster, it being understood that I was to meet Revitts and Mary at the White Horse Cellar. Piccadilly, and go down to Hampton Court at midday by the omnibus. Punctual to my time, I went across the park and up Saint James's Street and saw Revitts and Mary, long before I reached them, by the show they made. Mary was in white book muslin, with a long blade silk scarf, and a bonnet that I could not pretend to describe, save that over it she carried a blue parasol shot with red; and Revitts was in black frock-coat, buff waistcoat, and white trousers, with a tremendous show of collar standing bolt out of a sky-blue watered-silk stock, while his hat shone as if it was a repetition of the patent leather of his shoes. I instinctively felt that something was the matter as I drew near them, and, but for my genuine love and respect for them both, I believe I should have run away. I rebuked my cowardly shame directly after, though, and went up and shook hands. There was not a vestige of tantrums left in Mary's countenance, for it had softened itself into that dreadful smile--the same that was playing upon Revitts' face, as he kept looking at her in a satisfied, half-imbecile way, before giving me a nudge with his elbow, covering his mouth with his hand, and exclaiming in a loud whisper,-- "We've been and done it, Ant'ny! Pouf!" This last was a peculiar laugh in which he indulged, while Mary cast down her eyes. "Done it!--done what? What does he mean, Mary?" Mary grew scarlet, and became puzzled over the button of one of her white kid gloves. "Here, what do you mean, Bill?" I said. "Done it. Pouf!" he exclaimed, with another laugh from behind his hand. "Done it--married." "Married?" I echoed. "Yes. Pouf! Mrs Sergeant Revitts. White Sergeant. Pouf!" "Oh, Mary," I said, "and not to tell me!" "It was all his doing, Master Antony," pleaded Mary. "He would have me, and the more I wanted to go back to service, the more he made me get married. And now I hope he's happy."