infested with rogues, but one might expect to be safe with a constable in the house.”

“The constable is not in the house at night, sir,” said the Frenchman drily. “I thank you for your benevolent intention; the danger is past, and I would not keep you from your bed.”

His bow as he said this could only be taken as a courteous dismissal, and Mr. Seymour bowed himself out. Martin guessed from the expression of Mounseer’s face that he did not like his neighbour.

“Now, my friend Martin, please me by returning to your bed,” said the old gentleman. “I will barricade my door; they will not disturb me again.”

Martin heard the clocks strike two before he fell asleep. And it was only in his last waking moment that he remembered having heard creaking stairs earlier that night near Mounseer’s room.

CHAPTER THE SIXTH

MARTIN’S PASSENGER

Martin spent all the next day in a fruitless search for work. Either no one wanted a boy, or the few that had places open would not engage a boy who had been dismissed for fighting.

In the evening, tired and dejected, Martin was walking homeward along the waterside. Glancing towards the stairs where he had seen Mr. Slocum embark on the foreigner’s boat, he noticed two small boys bending down over a boat that was moored to an iron ring. A third boy stood half-way up the stairs, evidently keeping watch.

While Martin was still some distance off, the two boys rose and ran up to their companion, smiling and pointing. Then all three climbed the remaining steps and darted away.

Martin could not help smiling at the mischievous little fellows. They had untied the painter, and set the boat adrift on the stream. It was now floating down on the swift-running tide.

By the time it came opposite Martin it was already a dozen yards from the shore. To his surprise he saw that it was not empty, as he had supposed. In the bottom lay a dark bearded man with a red cap and an orange jersey—the same man as Martin had seen at the same spot two or three days before. He was fast asleep, just as he had been then. Neither the action of the mischievous boys nor the motion of the stream had awakened him.

“Hi! hi!” shouted Martin, fearing that the man might come to grief if the boat struck against 

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