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one that had strayed alone into his waistcoat pocket； and
unless he once more successfully achieved the adventure of
the house of crime； his portmanteau lay in the cloakroom in
eternal pawn； for lack of a penny fee。 And then he
remembered the porter； who stood suggestively attentive；
words of gratitude hanging on his lips。
John hunted right and left； he found a coin … prayed God that
it was a sovereign … drew it out； beheld a halfpenny； and
offered it to the porter。
The man's jaw dropped。
'It's only a halfpenny！' he said； startled out of railway
decency。
'I know that；' said John； piteously。
And here the porter recovered the dignity of man。
'Thank you； sir；' said he； and would have returned the base
gratuity。 But John； too； would none of it； and as they
struggled； who must join in but the cabman？
'Hoots； Mr。 Baigrey；' said he； 'you surely forget what day it
is！'
'I tell you I have no change！' cried John。
'Well；' said the driver； 'and what then？ I would rather give
a man a shillin' on a day like this than put him off with a
derision like a bawbee。 I'm surprised at the like of you；
Mr。 Baigrey！'
'My name is not Baigrey！' broke out John； in mere childish
temper and distress。
'Ye told me it was yoursel'；' said the cabman。
'I know I did； and what the devil right had you to ask？'
cried the unhappy one。
'Oh； very well；' said the driver。 'I know my place； if you
know yours … if you know yours！' he repeated； as one who
should imply grave doubt； and muttered inarticulate thunders；
in which the grand old name of gentleman was taken seemingly
in vain。
Oh to have been able to discharge this monster； whom John now
perceived； with tardy clear…sightedness； to have begun
betimes the festivities of Christmas！ But far from any such
ray of consolation visiting the lost； he stood bare of help
and helpers； his portmanteau sequestered in one place； his
money deserted in another and guarded by a corpse； himself；
so sedulous of privacy； the cynosure of all men's eyes about
the station； and； as if these were not enough mischances； he
was now fallen in ill…blood with the beast to whom his
poverty had linked him！ In ill…blood； as he reflected
dismally； with the witness who perhaps might hang or save
him！ There was no time to be lost； he durst not linger any
longer in that public spot； and whether he had recourse to
dignity or conciliation； the remedy must be applied at once。
Some happily surviving element of manhood moved him to the
former。
'Let us have no more of this；' said he； his foot once more
upon the step。 'Go back to where we came from。'
He had avoided the name of any destination； for there was now
quite a little band of railway folk about the cab； and he
still kept an eye upon the court of justice； and laboured to
avoid concentric evidence。 But here again the fatal jarvey
out…manoeuvred him。
'Back to the Ludge？' cried he； in shrill tones of protest。
'Drive on at once！' roared John； and slammed the door behind
him； so that the crazy chariot rocked and jingled。
Forth trundled the cab into the Christmas streets； the fare
within plunged in the blackness of a despair that neighboured
on unconsciousness； the driver on the box digesting his
rebuke and his customer's duplicity。 I would not be thought
to put the pair in competition； John's case was out of all
parallel。 But the cabman； too； is worth the sympathy of the
judicious； for he was a fellow of genuine kindliness and a
high sense of personal dignity incensed by drink； and his
advances had been cruelly and publicly rebuffed。 As he
drove； therefore； he counted his wrongs； and thirsted for
sympathy and drink。 Now； it chanced he had a friend； a
publican in Queensferry Street； from whom； in view of the
sacredness of the occasion； he thought he might extract a
dram。 Queensferry Street lies something off the direct road
to Murrayfield。 But then there is the hilly cross…road that
passes by the valley of the Leith and the Dean Cemetery； and
Queensferry Street is on the way to that。 What was to hinder
the cabman； since his horse was dumb； from choosing the
cross…road； and calling on his friend in passing？ So it was
decided； and the charioteer； already somewhat mollified；
turned aside his horse to the right。
John； meanwhile； sat collapsed； his chin sunk upon his chest；
his mind in abeyance。 The smell of the cab was still faintly
present to his senses； and a certain leaden chill about his
feet； all else had disappeared in one vast oppression of
calamity and physical faintness。 It was drawing on to noon …
two…and…twenty hours since he had broken bread； in the
interval； he had suffered tortures of sorrow and alarm； and
been partly tipsy； and though it was impossible to say he
slept； yet when the cab stopped and the cabman thrust his
head into the window； his attention had to be recalled from
depths of vacancy。
'If you'll no' STAND me a dram；' said the driver； with a
well…merited severity of tone and manner； 'I dare say ye'll
have no objection to my taking one mysel'？'
'Yes … no … do what you like；' returned John； and then； as he
watched his tormentor mount the stairs and enter the whisky…
shop； there floated into his mind a sense as of something
long ago familiar。 At that he started fully awake； and
stared at the shop…fronts。 Yes； he knew them； but when？ and
how？ Long since； he thought； and then； casting his eye
through the front glass； which had been recently occluded by
the figure of the jarvey； he beheld the tree…tops of the
rookery in Randolph Crescent。 He was close to home … home；
where he had thought； at that hour； to be sitting in the
well…remembered drawing…room in friendly converse； and；
instead … ！
It was his first impulse to drop into the bottom of the cab；
his next； to cover his face with his hands。 So he sat； while
the cabman toasted the publican； and the publican toasted the
cabman； and both reviewed the affairs of the nation； so he
still sat； when his master condescended to return； and drive
off at last down…hill； along the curve of Lynedoch Place； but
even so sitting； as he passed the end of his father's street；
he took one glance from between shielding fingers； and beheld
a doctor's carriage at the door。
'Well； just so；' thought he； 'I'll have killed my father！
And this is Christmas…day！'
If Mr。 Nicholson died； it was down this same road he must
journey to the grave； and down this road； on the same errand；
his wife had preceded him years before； and many other
leading citizens； with the proper trappings and attendance of
the end。 And now； in that frosty； ill…smelling； straw…
carpeted； and ragged…cushioned cab； with his breath
congealing on the glasses； where else was John himself
advancing to？
The thought stirred his imagination； which began to
manufacture many thousand pictures； bright and flee