'No such luck,' was the answer.
Philip tapped at the door through which the girls had retreated, and Salome opened it. Her eyes were glittering with tears, and her cheeks were moist.
'There is a fellow called Fanshawe wants a word with you,' said Philip.
The girl advanced through the hall to the door.
'Oh, miss!' said the night-watchman,'some o' us chaps aren't content to let matters stand as they be. For sewer t'owd gen'lman be somewheer, and we're boun' to mak' anither sarch. We thowt tha'd like to knaw.'
'But—where?'
'I't canal.'
'How?—By night?'
'For sewer. Wi' a loaf o' cake and a can'l.'
CHAPTER X.