"Safe so far," he muttered, when he found himself in the dark street. When he was at a safe distance he hailed a cab, and was driven to the east of the City, within a quarter of a mile of Mr. Parkinson's house. He was too cunning to drive nearer. Paying the cabman liberally, he strolled away with apparent carelessness. The next thing to be done was to convey the letter to Mary Parkinson without any one but themselves being the wiser. A difficult undertaking at such an hour; he was not even sure of the house in which Mary lived. It was necessary, therefore, he decided regretfully, to obtain the assistance of a stranger. He arrived at the street in which Mr. Parkinson lived, and he looked about him. A policeman passed him, but he dared not seek the aid of a public officer. The policeman being out of sight, fortune favored him. Wretched wayfarers who had no roof to cover them, and no money to pay for a bed, are not uncommon in these poor thoroughfares, and one approached him now and looked into his face. She was, alas! a young woman, scarcely twenty years of age. He accosted her without hesitation.
"Do you want to earn half a crown?" he asked.
She laughed hysterically, and held out her hand. He put sixpence into it, saying:
"The other two shillings if you can tell me what I want to know."
"Right you are," she said, recklessly; "fire away."
"Are you acquainted with this neighborhood?" he said.
"What game are you up to?" she cried.
"Never mind my game," he said, "but answer my questions. Do you know these streets?"
"Do I know 'em? Why, I was born in 'em!"
"In which one?"