"You doddle about 'ere for ten minutes," said Mr. Kidd, as they reached the Monument, "and then foller on. When you pass a lamp-post 'old your handkerchief up to your face. And wait for us at the corner of your road till we come for you."
He went off at a brisk pace with Mr. Brown, a pace moderated to one of almost funeral solemnity as they approached the residence of Mrs. Gibbs. To their relief she was alone, and after the usual amenities thanked them warmly for all they had done for her.
"I'd do more than that for pore Joe," said Mr. Brown.
"They—they 'aven't found 'im yet?" said the widow.
Mr. Kidd shook his head. "My idea is they won't find 'im," he said, slowly.
"Went down on the ebb tide," explained Mr. Brown; and spoilt Mr. Kidd's opening.
"Wherever he is 'e's better off," said Mrs. Gibbs.
"No more trouble about being out o' work; no more worry; no more pain. We've all got to go some day.
"Yes," began Mr. Kidd; "but—
"I'm sure I don't wish 'im back," said Mrs. Gibbs; "that would be sinful."
"But 'ow if he wanted to come back?" said Mr. Kidd, playing for an opening.
"And 'elp you spend that money," said Mr. Brown, ignoring the scowls of his friend.
Mrs. Gibbs looked bewildered. "Spend the money?" she began.
"Suppose," said Mr. Kidd, "suppose he wasn't drownded after all? Only last night I dreamt he was alive."
"So did I," said Mr. Brown.
"He was smiling at me," said Mr. Kidd, in a tender voice. "'Bob,' he ses, 'go and tell my pore missis that I'm alive,' he ses; 'break it to 'er gentle.'"
"It's the very words he said to me in my dream," said Mr. Brown. "Bit strange, ain't it?"
"Very," said Mrs. Gibbs.
"I suppose," said Mr. Kidd, after a pause, "I suppose you haven't been dreaming about 'im?"
"No; I'm a teetotaller," said the widow.
The two gentlemen exchanged glances, and Mr. Kidd, ever of an impulsive nature, resolved to bring matters to a head.
"Wot would you do if Joe was to come in 'ere at this door?" he asked.
"Scream the house down," said the widow, promptly.
"Scream—scream the 'ouse down?" said the distressed Mr. Kidd.
Mrs. Gibbs nodded. "I should go screaming, raving mad," she said, with conviction.
"But—but not if 'e was alive!" said Mr. Kidd.
"I don't know what you're driving at," said Mrs. Gibbs. "Why don't you speak out plain? Poor Joe is drownded, you know that; you saw it all, and yet you come talking to me about dreams and things."
Mr. Kidd bent over her and put his hand affectionately on her shoulder. "He escaped," he said, in a thrilling whisper. "He's alive and well."
"WHAT?" said Mrs. Gibbs, starting back.
"True as I stand 'ere," said Mr. Kidd; "ain't it, George?"
"Truer," said Mr. Brown, loyally.
Mrs. Gibbs leaned back, gasping. "Alive!" she said. "But 'ow? 'Ow can he be?"
"Don't make such a noise," said Mr. Kidd, earnestly. "Mind, if anybody else gets to 'ear of it you'll 'ave to give that money back."
"I'd give more than that to get 'im back," said Mrs. Gibbs, wildly. "I believe you're deceiving me."
"True as I stand 'ere," asseverated the other. "He's only a minute or two off, and if it wasn't for you screaming I'd go out and fetch 'im in."
"I won't scream," said Mrs. Gibbs, "not if I know it's flesh and blood. Oh, where is he? Why don't you bring 'im in? Let me go to 'im."
"All right," said Mr. Kidd, with a satisfied smile at Mr. Brown; "all in good time. I'll go and fetch 'im now; but, mind, if you scream you'll spoil everything."
He bustled cheerfully out of the room and downstairs, and Mrs. Gibbs, motioning Mr. Brown to silence, stood by the door with parted lips, waiting. Three or four minutes elapsed.
"'Ere they come," said Mr. Brown, as footsteps sounded on the stairs. "Now, no screaming, mind!"
Mrs. Gibbs drew back, and, to the gratification of all concerned, did not utter a sound as Mr. Kidd, followed by her husband, entered the room. She stood looking expectantly towards the doorway.