Street as I passed it in the Strand, matters went on pretty well as they did before the events of which these chapters have told.
CHAPTER III.
Two years had elapsed since the disappearance of Mrs. Talboys and little Emmie. During that time neither Maxwell nor I heard anything of either of them, and I am afraid I must own that they had both completely faded from our thoughts. With the exception of an occasional "Wonder what's become of the Talboys?" they were hardly ever alluded to by either of us.
Time had not treated us particularly well. We had long ago attained that well-known five pounds a week that so many writers of light literature attain, and so few go beyond, and at an average of five pounds a week, apiece, our income steadily remained. Not so, however, our expenditure. I am bound in honour to state, that Maxwell and I were both inconveniently in debt. We were not men of decidedly extravagant habits, but each of us had his hobbies, and a hobby-horse is the most expensive riding that a beggar can indulge in. In our cases, our respective hobbies carried us considerably beyond the constable, and we were obliged to accept all sorts of work to enable us to keep our enemies at bay.
One morning, as Maxwell and I set to work, in ex-
