“However, Dumps,” I continued, “your good services far outweigh your wicked deeds, and whatever you may do in the future, I will never forget that you were the means of introducing me to that angel, Lilly Blythe.”
The angel in question went that Sunday evening at seven o’clock, as was her wont, to a Bible class which she had started for the instruction of some of the poor neglected boys and lads who idled about in the dreary back streets of our aristocratic neighbourhood. The boys had become so fond of her that they were eager to attend, and usually assembled round the door of the class-room before the hour.
My protégé, Robin Slidder, was of course one of her warmest adherents. He was standing that night apart from the other boys, contemplating the proceedings of two combative sparrows which quarrelled over a crumb of bread on the pavement, and had just come to the conclusion that men and sparrows had some qualities in common, when he was attracted by a low whistle, and, looking up, beheld the Slogger peeping round a neighbouring corner.
“Hallo! Slog—Villum I mean; how are you? Come along. Vell, I am glad to see you, for, d’you know, arter you failed me that day at the Black Bull, I have bin givin’ you a pretty bad character, an’ callin’ you no end o’ bad names.”
“Is that what your ‘angel’ teaches you, Robin?”
“Vell, not exactly, but you’ll hear wot she teaches for yourself to-night, I ’ope. Come, I’m right glad to see you, Villum. What was it that prevented you that day, eh?”
When the Slogger had explained and cleared his character, Robin asked him eagerly if he had ascertained anything further about the girl whom he and Brassey had robbed.
“Of course I have,” said the Slogger, “and it’s a curious suckumstance that ’er place of abode—so Sally says—is in the Vest End, not wery far from here. She gave me the street and the name, but wasn’t quite sure of the number.”
“Vell, come along, let’s hear all about it,” said Robin impatiently.
“Wy, wot’s all your ’urry?” returned the Slogger slowly; “I ain’t goin’ away till I’ve heerd wot your angel’s got to say, you know. Besides, I must go arter your meeting’s over an watch the ’ouse till I see the gal an’ make sure that it’s her, for Sally may have bin mistook, you know.”