About the same time on that day Adrien Leroy was making his way in the

new car through the crowded thoroughfare of Oxford Street.

"Soho? Yus, sir. Crack'ell Court, fust turnin' on the left. I'll show

yer, sir," piped the ragged urchin, whose heartfelt interest Leroy had

purchased, along with his query, by means of a shilling.

Cracknell Court was small, evil-smelling, and teeming with children.

Bidding the chauffeur wait at the entrance to the court, Adrien, to whom

dust, noises, and evil smells were things of absolute pain, entered one

of the dens and asked for Mr. Wilfer.

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"There he is," said another urchin; and Leroy turned to face that

individual, who was leaning against an open door.

"Am I speaking to Mr. Johann Wilfer?" he asked courteously.

"You are," returned Wilfer, taking the begrimed pipe from his mouth, and

staring with bloodshot eyes at the handsome, high-bred face before him.

"Can you tell me if a young girl named Jessica returned to you safely

this morning?" Leroy enquired.

"My niece, Jess, d'ye mean?" replied Wilfer, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Ain't seen 'er fer months; run away last June, after 'elping 'erself to

some of my cash, an' ain't been back since. 'Sides, what's it got to do

with you, Guv'nor, I'd like to know? You mind yer own bus'ness."

He leered drunkenly at Leroy, who turned away with a look of disgust. He

knew how useless it was to expect truth from such a quarter.

As the gentleman stepped out into the dirty court and returned to his

car Johann Wilfer blinked his eyes in relief; then with an oath he

stumbled up the rickety stairs into the living-room, and confronted

Jessica, who was standing near the window.

"So that's yer little game, is it?" he said with a sneer; "you're goin'

in for swells right away, are yer, my gal? Got your name as pat as a

poll-parrot. Knows all my private business, I dessay; I'll break every

bone in yer body!"

He stumbled towards her where she stood--her face still transfigured

with joy at the sound of her benefactor's voice--and made a sudden grab

at her hair. But, alert and lithe as a leopardess, she bounded over the

table, and slipped past him down the staircase, from the top of which he

launched forth a long volley of curses.

Quivering and shaking, both with fear of Wilfer's violence and her sense

of injury at his denial of her presence to Leroy, Jessica ran, as fast

as her frail body would permit her, through the intricate smaller

streets and passages which abound in the Soho district. Having gone far

enough, in her opinion, to be fairly safe from any danger of Wilfer's

pursuit, she stopped to consider whether she should endeavour to find

Leroy.




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