"Pray for him, Phil," said Effie, tears suddenly filling her eves.
"Yes, yes," said the little fellow. "I always do."
Effie went into the next room.
"You have plenty of pluck, haven't you?" said Lawson, when he saw her.
"I hope so—I had need to have."
"Yes, I know that. Well, that unfortunate boy has put his foot in it at last,—he is in trouble,—detectives are after him."
"Detectives after George!" exclaimed Effie. "What can you possibly mean? Oh, do tell me at once—don't leave me in suspense."
"Sit down and I will tell you. Try not to agitate yourself, try to listen to me quietly. Remember that a brave woman can always control her nerves."
Effie sat down when Lawson bade her. Something in his quiet but resolute voice soothed her impatience; she looked up at him as he stood by the mantelpiece, resting one arm on it.
"The facts are these," he began at once; "Staunton has been going wrong for a long time——"