"This will explain." And Alan put Cicero's letter into her hand. "Give him that." She nodded, croaked like a bull-frog, and vanished amongst the crowd. Mr. Thorold found himself the center of attraction and the object of remark. This somewhat unpleasant position was put an end to by the appearance of Mother Ginger, who clawed Alan, and drew him into a house at the end of the court. The tatterdemalions gave a yell of disappointment at the escape of their prey, and their prey congratulated himself that he had not made his visit at night. He felt that he might have fared badly in this modern Court of Miracles. However, it appeared that he was safe under the protection of Mother Ginger. With the activity of a monkey, she conducted him up a dirty staircase and into a bare room furnished with a bed, a chair, and a table. Here Alan was greeted by a bulky creature in a gorgeous red dressing-gown, old and greasy, but still pretentious. He had no difficulty in recognizing the man whom he had seen reciting on the parade at Bournemouth. "I welcome you, Mr. Thorold," said Cicero in his best Turveydrop style. "Mother Ginger, depart." To get rid of the woman, Mr. Thorold placed a shilling in her concave claw, upon which she executed a kind of war-dance, and vanished with a yelp of delight. Left alone with the pompous vagabond, the young man took the only chair, and faced his host, who was sitting majestically on the bed, his red dressing-gown wrapped round him in regal style. "So you are Cicero Gramp?" began Alan. "I have seen you----" "At Bournemouth," interrupted the professor of elocution and eloquence. "True, I was there for the benefit of my health." "And to blackmail Miss Marlow." "Blackmail--a painful word, Mr. Thorold." "How do you know my name?" "It is part of my business to know all names," was the answer--"_ex nihilo nihil fit_, if you understand the tongue of my namesake. If I did not know what I desire to know, my income would be small indeed. I visited the salubrious village of Heathton, and learned there that Miss Marlow and Mr. Thorold, to whom she was engaged, were recreating themselves at the seaside with an inferior companion. Bournemouth was the seaside, and I went there. On seeing a young lady with a spinster and a gentleman in attendance, I noted Miss Marlow, Mr. Thorold, and Miss Parsh." "And made yourself scarce?" "I did," admitted Cicero frankly. "I departed as soon as you were out of sight, knowing that my letter would be delivered, and that you might call in the police." "Ah, a guilty conscience!" "Far from it." Cicero flung open his dressing-gown and struck his chest. "Here purity and innocence and peace are enthroned. I did not wish to be taken by the minions of the law, lest they should wrest from me for nothing what I should prefer to sell for a few pounds. Besides, I wished to see you in my own house. A poor establishment," said Mr. Gramp, looking round the meager room, "but mine own."