few minutes, the first excitement having
subsided, a feeling of superstitious horror began to
creep over the men. With one accord, as stricken
with a sudden fear, they hastened into the outer
day.

"Pembridge Station was distant scarcely a mile,
and less than ten minutes had elapsed before they
were breathlessly recounting what, had happened
in the ears of the astonished station-master.
There was no discrediting their narrative, backed
by such a witness as that which one of the party now
produced, unrolling it from his handkerchief and
neckcloth. It was therefore resolved to telegraph
at once to London, requesting that the police
might be on the look-out for the train, which
would not be due at the terminus for nearly
another hour.

"Quickly flashed the warning words along the
wire:

"'Police—stop—first-class—old gent—fur—
brown wig—murder.'

"It chanced that, at the moment of the train in
question being due, Inspector Gimlett, of the L
division, Detective, was leaning idly against the
station-rails. His eye, which seemed to sweep
in everything, fell upon a tall pale person, in a
furred coat and travelling-cap, who descended
from a first-class carriage, taking a pinch of
snuff.

"The trifling act I have mentioned sufficed to
awake Mr. Gimlett's general suspicions. Who
on earth, even though active and sure-footed,
would select the instant of getting out of a railway
carriage hardly come to a stand, for taking
a pinch of snuff? The inspector winked at a
subordinate near, who directly proffered his
assistance to the tall gentleman, and strolled on.
A hubbub that had first aroused Mr. Gimlett
from his meditations had increased.

"'I tell you, fellow, you've mistaken your
man!' vociferated a burly individual, who had
also a fur collar and a brown wig. 'I'm an
alderman. I'm a magistrate. I'm Sir Tibbley
Winks, of Aldersgate and Finsbury-square. I'm
—"Murder," sir?'

"'Very good, Sir Tibbley,' said a policeman,
who had his hand lightly on the old gentleman's
shoulder. 'Perhaps you'd walk into the office
for a moment.'

"'Office, sir! I'll walk into my own chariot,
and nothing else!' bawled the civic dignitary.
'There it is—them two bays—a waiting——'

"'Stop!' said the steady voice of Inspector
Gimlett, who had wrought his way through the
throng, irresistible as the instrument whose name
he bore. 'This gentleman is Sir Tibbley Winks,
the active and worshipful city magistrate. It is
altogether a mistake—Sir Tibbley will excuse it
—public duty—crowded station—hem! See Sir
Tibbley taken to his carriage instantly.
Now, ninety-two, follow me.'

"There appeared to have been some difficulty
about cabs, as the tall traveller was still taking
pinches of snuff, on the platform, as if he were
firing minute guns of distress. Surrounded by
some rather effeminate-looking luggage, and
led by the porter-policeman, he was
smiling, indeed, but there was an evident
restlessness in the glances he cast on every side, as
cab after cab declined his signal to come and take
up. With the approach of Mr. Gimlett,
however, the unpopularity of the fare disappeared.

"'Here, one of you!' cried the inspector.

"Six cabs immediately drew up. He engaged
the two first.

"'What shall we do with the lady's luggage,
sir?' asked Mr. Gimlett, blandly.

"'The la—la——' stammered the traveller.

"'Silk stockings, and sich?' put in number
ninety-two, officiously.

"His inspector rebuked him with a look, and
repeated his question.

"'The "lady's," my good friend?' said the
dignified traveller, who had regained his composure;
'I am alone.'

"'Very good, sir. Put the gentleman's two
bonnet-boxes on the roof, crinoline and parasol
on the box, parcel of shawls, satin mantilla, and
reticule inside. Heavy baggage in the second
cab. Now, sir, all ready, please. If you wish to
set this little business straight, off-hand, we can
call on the coroner at once, you know, on our
way to the—hum——'

"'If, by the hum, you mean your confounded
station, by all manner of means,' said the
traveller, 'let us avoid that paradise. Besides, I
have the pleasure of knowing the excellent
coroner, Mr. Smoothly Slirr; so come along. After
you.'

"'No, impossible,' said the polite inspector, and
followed the traveller into the cab; number ninety-
two taking charge of the luggage in the other.

"That excellent public officer, Mr. Slirr, occupied
a large mansion in the neighbourhood of
Russell-square. The day I am speaking of
happened to be his birthday, and he was entertaining
a party of friends at dinner, when the cab drove
up to the door, and Mr. Gimlett sent up his card
and that of the traveller.

"In an instant, down rushed Mr. Slirr, his
napkin in his hand. He shook hands warmly
with the stranger, greeting him by the name of
Lovibond, and begged him to alight.

"Mr. Gimlett, who was apparently a little hurt
at being overlooked, here interposed, and briefly
explained that the main object of their visit was
to request the worthy coroner to hold an inquest
at once, in order that Sir Charles Lovibond
might either proceed to his own residence without
further detention, or to the county jail, as
the case might be; thus avoiding the preliminary
annoyance of appearing before another
magistrate, who might worry the applicant with no
end of questions, and, very likely, require the
attendance of witnesses.

"Mr. Slirr admitted the force of the argument.

"'But the jury,' he said, pausing; 'we must
have a jury, eh, Gimlett?'

"Mr. Gimlett acquiesced in the desirability of
adhering to this popular form.