With a sigh he halted at the Wellington-street crossing in the Strand, which, owing to the constant stream of traffic at this point, is one of the worst in London.

There was a block at the moment, as there generally is, and he stood for some minutes watching the frantic dashes of an old woman, who always tried to cross it at the wrong time, not without some amusement.

Presently, however, a boy with a bundle of unfolded _Globes_ under his arm came rushing along, making the place hideous with his howls.
"Wonderful escape of a lady and han infant!" he roared.

"Account of the survivors of the Kangaroo--wonderful escape--desert island--arrival of the Magnolia with the criminals." Eustace jumped, and instantly bought a copy of the paper, stepping into the doorway of a shop where they sold masonic jewels of every size and hue, in order to read it.

The very first thing that his eye fell on was an editorial paragraph.
"In another column," ran the paragraph, "will be found a short account, telegraphed to us from Southampton just as we are going to press, of the most remarkable tale of the sea that we are acquainted with.