"It was the _Discovery_, a whaler belonging to Whitby, and homeward bound. The captain, Van Hoppe, was Dutch by birth, but had been reared in England and had always sailed in English ships. A good and kind fellow, if ever there was one. Of course, I had to make my tale good and suppress the truth. The passenger-ship in which I was sailing to Australia to seek my fortune had foundered in mid-ocean, and those who escaped with me had died of their sufferings. That was true so far. Captain Van Hoppe took up my misfortunes warmly. Had he been my own brother--had he been _you_, Charley--he could not have treated me better or cared for me more. The vessel had a prosperous run home. She was bound for the port of London; and when I put my hand into Van Hoppe's at parting, and tried to thank him for his goodness, he left a twenty-pound note in it. 'You'll need it, Mr. Strange,' he said; 'you can repay me when your fortune's made and you are rich.'" "_Strange!_" I cried. Tom laughed. "I called myself 'Strange' on the whaler. Don't know that it was wise of me. One day when I was getting better and lay deep in thought--which just then chanced to be of you, Charley--the mate suddenly asked me what my name was. 'Strange,' I answered, on the spur of the moment. That's how it was. And that's the brief history of my escape." "You have had money, then, for your wants since you landed," I remarked. "I have had the twenty pounds. It's coming to an end now." "You ought not to have come to London. You should have got the captain to put you ashore somewhere, and then made your escape from England." "All very fine to talk, Charley! I had not a sixpence in my pocket, or any idea that he was going to help me. I could only come on as far as the vessel would bring me." "And suppose he had not given you money--what then?" "Then I must have contrived to let you know that I was home again, and borrowed from you," he lightly replied. "Well, your being here is frightfully dangerous." "Not a bit of it. As long as the police don't suspect I am in England, they won't look after me. It's true that a few of them might know me, but I do not think they would in this guise and with my altered face." "You were afraid of one to-night." "Well, _he_ is especially one who might know me; and he stood there so long that I began to think he might be watching me. Anyway, I've been on shore these three weeks, and nothing has come of it yet." "What about that young lady named Betsy? Miss Betsy Lee." Tom threw himself back in a fit of laughter. "I hear the old fellow went down to Essex Street one night to ascertain whether I lived there! The girl asked me one day where I lived, and I rapped out Essex Street." "But, Tom, what have you to do with the girl?"