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former master's face wore that dare…devil look with which he had been wont to say： 〃D…n it； Creed！ lend me a pound。 I've got no money！〃 On the other hand； in a green frame which had once been plush； and covered by a glass with a crack in the left…hand corner； was a portrait of the Dowager Countess of Glengower； as this former mistress of his appeared； conceived by the local photographer； laying the foundation… stone of the local almshouse。 During the wreck of Creed's career； which； following on a lengthy illness； had preceded his salvation by the Westminster Gazette； these two household gods had lain at the bottom of an old tin trunk； in the possession of the keeper of a lodging…house； waiting to be bailed out。 The 〃Honorable Bateson〃 was now dead； nor had he paid as yet the pounds he had borrowed。 Lady Glengower； too； was in heaven； remembering that she had forgotten all her servants in her will。 He who had served them was still alive； and his first thought； when he had secured his post on the 〃Westminister；〃 was to save enough to rescue them from a dishonourable confinement。 It had taken him six months。 He had found them keeping company with three pairs of woollen drawers； an old but respectable black tail…coat； a plaid cravat； a Bible； four socks； two of which had toes and two of which had heels； some darning…cotton and a needle； a pair of elastic…sided boots； a comb and a sprig of white heather； wrapped up with a little piece of shaving…soap and two pipe… cleaners in a bit of the Globe newspaper； also two collars； whose lofty points； separated by gaps of quite two inches； had been wont to reach their master's gills； the small alarum clock aforesaid； and a tiepin formed in the likeness of Queen Victoria at the date of her first Jubilee。 How many times had he not gone in thought over those stores of treasure while he was parted from them！ How many times since they had come back to him had he not pondered with a slow but deathless anger on the absence of a certain shirt； which he could have sworn had been amongst them。
But now he lay in bed waiting to hear the clock go off； with his old bristly chin beneath the bedclothes； and his old discoloured nose above。 He was thinking the thoughts which usually came into his mind about this hourthat Mrs。 Hughs ought not to scrape the butter off his bread for breakfast in the way she did； that she ought to take that sixpence off his rent； that the man who brought his late editions in the cart ought to be earlier； letting 'that man' get his Pell Mells off before him； when he himself would be having the one chance of his day； that； sooner than pay the ninepence which the bootmaker had proposed to charge for resoling him； he would wait until the summer came 'low class o' feller' as he was； he'd be glad enough to sole him then for sixpence
And the high…souled critic； finding these reflections sordid； would have thought otherwise； perhaps； had he been standing on those feet （now twitching all by themselves beneath the bedclothes） up to eleven o'clock the night before； because there were still twelve numbers of the late edition that nobody would buy。 No one knew more surely than Joshua Creed himself that； if he suffered himself to entertain any large and lofty views of life； he would infallibly find himself in that building to keep out of which he was in the habit of addressing to God his only prayer to speak of。 Fortunately； from a boy up； together with a lengthy； oblong； square…jawed face； he had been given by Nature a single…minded view of life。 In fact； the mysterious； stout tenacity of a soul born in the neighbourhood of Newmarket could not have been done justice to had he constitutionally seenany more than Mr。 Stone himselftwo things at a time。 The one thing he had seen； for the five years that he had now stood outside Messrs。 Rose and Thorn's； was the workhouse； and； as he was not going there so long as he was living； he attended carefully to all little matters of expense in this somewhat sordid way。
While attending thus； he heard a scream。 Having by temperament considerable caution； but little fear； he waited till he heard another； and then got out of bed。 Taking the poker in his hand； and putting on his spectacles； he hurried to the door。 Many a time and oft in old days had he risen in this fashion to defend the plate of the 〃Honorable Bateson〃 and the Dowager Countess of Glengower from the periodical attacks of his imagination。 He stood with his ancient nightgown flapping round his still more ancient legs； slightly shivering； then； pulling the door open； he looked forth。 On the stairs just above him Mrs。 Hughs； clasping her baby with one arm； was holding the other out at full length between herself and Hughs。 He heard the latter say： 〃You've drove me to it； I'll do a swing for you！〃 Mrs。 Hughs' thin body brushed past into his room； blood was dripping from her wrist。 Creed saw that Hughs had his bayonet in his hand。 With all his might he called out： 〃Ye ought to be ashamed of yourself！〃 raising the poker to a position of defence。 At this momentmore really dangerous than any he had ever knownit was remarkable that he instinctively opposed to it his most ordinary turns of speech。 It was as though the extravagance of this un… English violence had roused in him the full measure of a native moderation。 The sight of the naked steel deeply disgusted him； he uttered a long sentence。 What did Hughs call thisdisgracin' of the house at this time in the mornin'？ Where was he brought up？ Call 'imself a soldier； attackin' of old men and women in this way？ He ought to be ashamed！
While these words were issuing between the yellow stumps of teeth in that withered mouth； Hughs stood silent； the back of his arm covering his eyes。 Voices and a heavy tread were heard。 Distinguishing in that tread the advancing footsteps of the Law； Creed said： 〃You attack me if you dare！〃
Hughs dropped his arm。 His short； dark face had a desperate look； as of a caged rat； his eyes were everywhere at once。
〃All right； daddy；〃 he said； 〃I won't hurt you。 She's drove my head all wrong again。 Catch hold o' this； I can't trust myself。〃 He held out the bayonet。
〃Westminister〃 took it gingerly in his shaking hand。
〃To use a thing like that！〃 he said。 〃An' call yourself an Englishman！ I'll ketch me death standin' here； I will。〃
Hughs made no answer leaning against the wall。 The old butler regarded him severely。 He did not take a wide or philosophic view of him； as a tortured human being； driven by the whips of passion in his dark blood； a creature whose moral nature was the warped； stunted tree his life had made it； a poor devil half destroyed by drink and by his wound。 The old butler took a more single…minded and old… fashioned line。 'Ketch 'old of 'im！' he thought。 'With these low fellers there's nothin' else to be done。 Ketch 'old of 'im until he squeals。'
Nodding his ancient head； he said：
〃Here's an orficer。 I shan't speak for yer； you deserves all you'll get； and more。〃
Later； dressed in an old Newmarket coat； given him by some client； and walking towards the police…station alongside Mrs。 Hughs； he was particularly silent； presenting a front of s