“Who’s skulking round outside there?  If it’s one of those bailiffs he’d better hook it, for there’s nothing left here.”

George’s countenance positively beamed at the sound.

“Bailiffs, marm?” he called through the door—­“it ain’t no varminty bailiffs, it’s a friend, and just when you’re a-wanting one seemingly.  Can I come in?”

“Oh, yes, come in, whoever you are,” said the voice.  Accordingly he opened the door and entered, and this was what he saw.  The room, like the rest of the house, had been stripped of everything, with the solitary exceptions of a box and a mattress, beside which were an empty bottle and a dirty glass.  On the mattress sat the fair Edithia, alias Mrs. d’Aubigne, alias the Tiger, alias Mrs. Quest, and such a sight as she presented George had never seen before.  Her fierce face bore traces of recent heavy drinking and was moreover dirty, haggard and dreadful to look upon; her hair was a frowsy mat, on some patches of which the golden dye had faded, leaving it its natural hue of doubtful grey.  She wore no collar and her linen was open at the neck.  On her feet were a filthy pair of white satin slippers, and on her back that same gorgeous pink satin tea-gown which Mr. Quest had observed on the occasion of his visit, now however soiled and torn.  Anything more squalid or repulsive than the whole picture cannot be imagined, and though his nerves were pretty strong, and in the course of his life he had seen many a sight of utter destitution, George literally recoiled from it.

“What’s the matter?” said the hag sharply, “and who the dickens are you?  Ah, I know now; you’re the chap who whacked Johnnie,” and she burst into a hoarse scream of laughter at the recollection.  “It was mean of you though to hook it and leave me.  He pulled me, and I was fined two pounds by the beak.”

“Mean of him, marm, not me, but he was a mean varmint altogether he was; to go and pull a lady too, I niver heard of such a thing.  But, marm, if I might say so, you seem to be in trouble here,” and he took a seat upon the deal box.

“In trouble, I should think I was in trouble.  There’s been an execution in the house, that is, there’s been three executions, one for rates and taxes, one for a butcher’s bill, and one for rent.  They all came together, and fought like wild cats for the things.  That was yesterday, and you see all they have left me; cleaned out everything down to my new yellow satin, and then asked for more.  They wanted to know where my jewellery was, but I did them, hee, hee!”

“Meaning, marm?”