Tilda knocked, and her knock was answered by a sour-visaged woman. "Well, an' what can I do for you?" asked the woman, staring down from her doorstep on the children. "If you please, ma'am, is Mr. 'Olly at 'ome?" "No, he ain't." "I knew it," said Tilda tranquilly. "But by all accounts 'e's got a son." "Eh?" The woman still stared, divided between surprise and mistrust. "You're mistakin'," Tilda pursued. "I ain't come with any scandal about the fam'ly. A grown-up son, I mean--with a 'orse an' cart. Because, if so, there's five gallopin' 'orses down at the wharf waitin' to be taken over to Henley-in-Arden." "Oh?" said the woman. "My 'usband left word Gustavus was to fetch 'em along if they arrived. But who sent you with the message?" "I've a friend in Gavel's business," Tilda answered with dignity. "'E's what you might call Gavel's right 'and man--an' 'e's 'andy with 'is right, too, when 'e's put out. If 'e should 'ear--I'm advisin' for yer _good_, mind--if 'e should 'ear as five 'orses was 'ung up on the wharf 'ere through S. 'Olly an' Son's neglect, you may look out for ructions. An' that's all I promise." She turned back towards the wharf, and even as Arthur Miles turned to follow they could hear the woman calling loudly, summoning her son from his tea in the kitchen. "I reckon," commented Tilda, "I put the fear o' Bill into that woman. You may 'a noticed I didn' like her looks." She led the way back to the wharf in some elation. Twilight was gathering there and over the canal. She had rounded the corner of the store, when, happening to glance towards the _Success to Commerce_, moored under the bank a bare twenty yards away, she halted, and with a gasp shrank close into the shadow. "Collar 'Dolph! Grip old on 'im for the Lord's sake!" she whispered, and clutched Arthur Miles by the arm. On the bank beside the boat stood a man. "But what's the matter?" the boy demanded. "'Ush! Oh, 'ush an' lie close! It's Glasson!" CHAPTER XIII. ADVENTURE OF THE FURRED COLLAR. "'_Do you know me, my lord?' 'Excellent well; you are a fishmonger._'"--HAMLET. He stood on the edge of the wharf--a black figure in an Inverness cape-- with his back towards the angle of the store where the children hid. There was no mistaking him. For two nights he had haunted Tilda's dreams; and she could have picked him out, even in the twilight, from among a thousand. She gave another gasp, and with that her presence of mind returned. He had not seen them; he was watching the barge. The angle of the store would still hide them if they tip-toed to the wharf gate. But they must be noiseless as mice; they must reach the road, and then-- She caught up 'Dolph by the scruff of his neck, tucked him under her arm, and whispered to Arthur Miles to steal after her. But before she had taken three paces another fright brought her heart into her mouth.