The Greatest Thrillers of Fergus Hume. Fergus Hume

      "I don't know," said Eustace, taking her hand; "but I do know that I love you, and I have an idea that you love me. In this case, I think that instead of going back to your tribe you should come to your husband."

      "My husband--you!" cried Hagar, with a charming blush.

      "If you love me," said Eustace, and then was quiet.

      "You leave the burden of proposing on me," cried Hagar, again. "Well, my dear, I will not hide from you that I do love you. Hush! let me go on. I have seen but little of you, yet what I have seen I have loved, every inch of it. I can read faces and estimate character better than most, and I know that you are a true, good, honorable man, who will make me, a poor gipsy, a better husband than I dared to expect. Yes, Eustace, I love you. If you care I will marry you---"

      "Care! Marry me!" said Lorn, in rapture. "Why, my angel---"

      "One moment," interrupted Hagar more seriously. "You know that I have no money, Eustace. Jacob Dix did not leave me a penny. I refuse to take anything from Goliath, who wants to marry me; and to-morrow I leave this shop as poor as when I came into it two years ago. Now, you are poor also; so two paupers are foolish to marry."

      "But I am not poor!" cried Eustace, smiling--"that is, I am not rich, but I have sufficient for you and me to lead the life we love."

      "But the life I love is the gipsy life," objected Hagar.

      "I also am Romany by instinct," said Eustace joyously. "Have I not led the life of a vagabond these many months while looking for Goliath? See here, my dearest girl; when I left you I sold the Florentine Dante to a collector of books for a goodly sum. With the money I sought a caravan, and stocked it with books suitable for the country folk. All this time, my dear, I have been traveling with my caravan from town to town, earning my living by selling books; and I find it, really and truly, a very profitable concern. I ask you to be my wife--to share my caravan and gipsy life; so if you---"

      "Eustace!" cried Hagar, joyfully, and threw her arms round his neck. That was all; the situation adjusted itself between them without further words. When the pair stepped out into Carby's Crescent to see the caravan--it was round the corner--they were already betrothed. For once in this world the course of true love was running smoothly. To marry Eustace; to live in a caravan; to wander about the country in true Bohemian fashion--Hagar could conceive of no sweeter existence. At last she was rewarded for her toils in the pawn-shop.

      "This is our future home, Hagar," said Eustace, and pointed to the caravan.

      It was a very spick and span vehicle, painted a light canary color, picked out with pale blue; and on either side was inscribed--also in azure--the legend, "E. Lorn, Bookseller." A sleek gray horse in brown harness was between the shafts; and the windows of the caravan were barred with brass rods and curtained with the whitest of curtains. Hagar fell in love with this delightful Noah's ark--as Eustace playfully called it--and clapped her hands. As it was about six o'clock and twilight, the street was almost emptied of people, so Hagar could indulge in her raptures to her heart's content.

      "O Eustace, Eustace! 'Tis beautiful! 'tis perfect!" she cried. "If it is as neat within as without, I shall love it dearly!"

      "You'll make me jealous of the caravan," said Eustace, rather uneasily. "But don't look inside, Hagar."

      "Why not?" said she, with a wondering look.

      "Oh, because, because---" he began, in confusion, and then stopped. Hagar looked at the door of the caravan, and Eustace turned his eyes in the same direction. It opened slowly, and a face--a brutal white face--looked out. The man to whom this visage--it was covered with a hairy growth of some days--belonged peered out at Eustace; then his gaze wandered to Hagar. As the light fell on his sullen looks, she gave a cry; the man on his side uttered an oath, and the next moment, dashing open the door, he had leaped out, and brushing past the pair, was racing down the street which led from Carby's Crescent into the larger thoroughfare.

      Eustace looked surprised at this sudden flight, and turned an inquiring look on Hagar, who was pale as sculptured stone.

      "Why are you so pale?" he said, taking her hand; "and why did my friend run away at the sight of you?"

      "Your friend?" said Hagar, faintly.

      "Yes; for the time being at all events. He is only a poor tramp I found near Esher the other day. He was lying in a ditch half-dead for want of food, so I took him into my caravan, and looked after him till he got better. He asked me to take him up to London; and I was about to tell you about him when he ran away."

      "Why did you not wish me to look into the caravan?"

      "Well," said Eustace, "this tramp seemed rather nervous; I'm afraid a hard life has told on the poor soul. A strange face always made him afraid, and I thought that if you looked in suddenly, he might be alarmed. As it is---"

      "As it is, he was alarmed when he did see me," burst out Hagar. "He well might be, as I know him!"

      "You know him--that tramp?"

      "Tramp! He is a convict--Bill Smith--the one I wrote to you about."

      "What! that blackguard who was engaged in the mandarin swindle!" cried Eustace, taken aback--"who stole those diamonds! I thought he was in prison!"

      "So he was; but he escaped last week. The police are looking for him."

      "Who told you this, Hagar?"

      "Goliath. He was in prison also, for horse-stealing; but he has just been let out--a few days ago. Bill Smith--Larky Bill as they call him--broke out, and he wants to kill Vark, the lawyer."

      "Then I have unconsciously helped him to escape justice," said Lorn, in vexed tones. "I really thought he was a tramp; had I known who he was I would not have helped him. He is a brute!"

      "He'll be a murderer soon!" cried Hagar, feverishly. "For heaven's sake, Eustace, repair your error by going to Scotland Yard and telling them that the man is in London! You may be able to prevent a crime."

      "I'll go," said Eustace, getting on to the driving seat of the caravan. "I'll see about this tonight, and return to talk to you to-morrow. One moment"--he leaped down again--"a kiss, my dear."

      "Eustace! there are people about!"

      "Well, they didn't stop Bill Smith running away, so they won't object to a kiss between an engaged couple. Good-by, dearest, for the last time. To-morrow we meet to part no more."

      It was in considerable agitation that Hagar returned to her pawn-shop. The coming of Goliath, the arrival of Eustace, the unexpected escape of Bill Smith--all these events crowded so rapidly into her life--in the space of an hour, as one might say--that she felt unnerved and alarmed. She did not know what the next day might bring forth, and was particularly careful in locking up the house on this night, lest the escaped convict should take it into his head to enter therein as a burglar. The next twelve hours were anything but pleasant to Hagar.

      With the daylight came more assurance; also Vark and Goliath. The lean lawyer was much agitated at the news of the escape, and feared---as he well might--that his miserable life was not safe from so bitter an enemy as Larky Bill. However, his fear did not prevent him from attending to business; and the whole of that morning Hagar was busy explaining accounts and payments and receipts to Vark and Goliath. The lawyer tried hard to find fault with the administration of Hagar; to pick holes in her statements; but, thanks to the rigid honesty of the girl, and the careful manner in which she had conducted her business, Vark, to his great disgust, was unable to harm her in any way. Everything was arranged fairly, and Goliath expressed himself quite satisfied with the statement of his property. Then he made a speech.

      "It seems that I have thirty thousand quid," said he, exultingly; "also a pop-shop, which I'll give the kick to. With the rhino I can set up as a gent---"

      "That you can never be!" retorted Hagar, scornfully.

      "Not unless you look arter me. See here, you jade, when I was poor you said naught to me; now I am rich you---"

      "I say the same, Goliath. When you were an honest