"Belk, sir," said the woman, seeing that Archie was at a loss, "perhaps, sir, you may know my son, Samson Belk." "Oh, yes! the good-looking bailiff," replied Maxwell, carelessly. "Is he your son?" "He is, sir," answered Mrs. Belk, her heart swelling with pride at hearing the eulogy on her son's good looks. "He was bailiff to Sir Rupert, but now he is bailiff to the new baronet, Sir Thomas Pethram." "Indeed. I'm very glad his prospects are so good," said Archie politely, wondering what all this domestic history had to do with him. "His prospects ain't good, sir; and that's why I've come up to see you." "But, my good woman, what can I do?" cried the young man in amazement. Mrs. Belk wriggled in her chair, sniffed significantly, and went on talking apparently in a manner most irrelevant to the subject in hand. "Sir Thomas," she said, with snappy deliberation, "is a hard man. Sir Rupert was hard, there's no denying, and my boy--who is proud--didn't get on with being crushed. If Sir Rupert hadn't died he would have left his service; but as he did die, and Sir Thomas asked him to stay on--he knowing all the ins and outs of the place--he did so, thinking Sir Thomas would be a better master." "And he was disappointed?" Mrs. Belk nodded her head emphatically. "You can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear," she said, sententiously; "and that's what Sir Thomas is. A hard gentleman, sir, who thinks my boy is a slave; so we are going to leave his service." "But, Mrs. Belk," observed Archie, rather puzzled, "what on earth has all this got to do with me?" "I'm coming to that, sir," replied the woman, imperturbably; "me and my boy wondered what we'd do when we left Sir Thomas; for situations, Mr. Maxwell, are hard to get--especially for poor folks like us." Maxwell nodded an assent, and waited until she came to the reason of her visit. "In the papers," pursued Mrs. Belk, with a faint smile of triumph on her pale face, "me and my boy saw that strong men was being exhibited in London, and all the gentry was mad on 'em." "Yes, I believe that is the case. This strong man craze is in all the music-halls." "My son, sir, is called Samson, and he is as strong as a horse." "Yes, I know that," said Archie, with the cordial admiration of physical strength which one Englishman feels for another. "He is tremendously strong. I've seen him do some wonderful things. Well, and your son proposes to come up to London and exhibit his strength." "Yes, sir," said Mrs. Belk, with a look of triumph; "he does, sir. It's my idea." "I've no doubt it's a good one. While the craze lasts he may make money; but after----" "I'll take care of the money, sir," answered Mrs. Belk, grimly. "He'll make hay while the sun shines, and I'll take care when the sun doesn't shine that we'll have something to live on." "Do you want me to help you in this, then?" "In a sort of way, sir; but not for nothing." Maxwell smiled. "Really, I don't know what you can do for me."