“Ah! yes, yes, you will scarcely find him here.”
“Where can I find him, sir?”
“That is easier asked than answered, my little maiden, unless you know something before hand.”
“I don’t know—I came into town to-day. I wish to see him. Can’t you tell me where to go?”
“I will go with you, little one,” answered the man, looking uneasily at the lights around. “Come, I will take you where you can send for him—come with me.” He walked hastily on, and Mary followed: for some time he continued a few paces before her, but turning down a narrow street in which there were no gas-lamps, he put her arm in his, and said—
“Now, my little girl, tell me all about it. Where did you come from, and what is it about Dudley Fletcher?”
“I came from Un-a-ka, sir—and I wish to see him.”
“A little love-affair now—eh! You’re his little sweetheart?”
To this Mary making no reply, her companion withdrew her arm, and placed his own around her. Frightened at this, she shrunk away, and, as he persisted, she suddenly sunk to the ground, and burst into tears. Had there been sufficient light, a very puzzled expression might have been seen upon the face of the gentleman as he lifted her from the pavement.
“Come,” he said, “don’t cry. I’ll not offend you again—where shall I take you?”