England -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Runaway children -- Fiction; Young men -- Fiction
"Thankye, youngster," he said, "thankye for that. You and I will be
good friends, I see. I _will_ trust your word, hang me if I don't.
Here, come along."
"Are you--are you going to take me up, sir?" I faltered, with a shiver
of apprehension.
"I'm a-going to give you the door-key where I lodges, my lad. I'm on
night duty, and shan't be home till quarter-past six, so you may have my
bed and welcome. Now, look here," he said, "don't you go and let
anybody fool you. I'm going to show you the end of a long street, and
you'll go right to the top, then turn to the right along the road till
you come to the fourth turning, and on the right-hand side, number
twenty-seven, is where I lodges. Here's the key. You puts it in the
lock, turns it, shuts the door after you, and then goes gently upstairs
to the second-pair back."
"Second-pair back, sir?" I said dubiously.
"Well there, then, to the back room atop of the house, and there you may
sleep till I come. Now then, this way out."
It was a change that I could not have believed in, and I accompanied the
constable wonderingly as he led me out of the police-station and through
several dark-looking streets, till he stopped short before a long dim
vista, where straight before me two lines of gaslights stretched right
away till they seemed to end in a bright point.
"Now, then," he said, "you can't make any mistake there."
"No, sir."
"Off you go then to the top, and then you'll find yourself in a big
road."
"Yes, sir."
"Turn to the right, and then count four streets on the right-hand side.
Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Go down that street about halfway, till you see a gaslight shining on a
door with number twenty-seven upon it. Twenty-seven Caroline Street.
Now, do you understand? Straight up to the top, and then it's right,
right, right, all the way."
"I understand, sir."
"Good luck to you then, be off; here's my sergeant."
I should have stopped to thank him, but he hurried me away; and half
forgetting my weariness, I went along the street, found at last the road
at the end, followed it as directed, and then in the street of little
houses found one where the light from the lamp shone as my guide had
said.
I paused with the key in my hand, half fearing to use it, but summoning
up my courage, I found the door opened easily and closed quietly, when I
stood in a narrow passage with the stairs before me, and following them
to the top, I hesitated, hardly knowing back from front. A deep heavy
breathing from one room, however, convinced me that that could not be
the back, so I tried the other door, to find it yield, and there was
just light enough from the window to enable me to find the bed, on which
I threw myself half dressed, and slept soundly till morning, when I
opened my eyes to find Mr Revitts taking off his stiff uniform coat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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