CHAPTER XIII.
ADVENTURE OF THE FURRED COLLAR.
"'_Do you know me, my lord ?' 'Excellent well; you are a fishmonger._'"-- HAMLET.
He stood on the edge of the wharf--a black figure in an Inverness cape-- with his back towards the angle of the store where the children hid.
There was no mistaking him.

For two nights he had haunted Tilda's dreams; and she could have picked him out, even in the twilight, from among a thousand.
She gave another gasp, and with that her presence of mind returned.
He had not seen them; he was watching the barge.

The angle of the store would still hide them if they tip-toed to the wharf gate.

But they must be noiseless as mice; they must reach the road, and then-- She caught up 'Dolph by the scruff of his neck, tucked him under her arm, and whispered to Arthur Miles to steal after her.

But before she had taken three paces another fright brought her heart into her mouth.
Footsteps were coming down the road.