CHAPTER XVIII.
OF A YOUNG MAN THAT WOULD START UPON A DARK ADVENTURE, BUT HAD TWO MINDS UPON IT.
At ten o'clock on this same morning Mr.Samuel Buzza sat by the Club window, alternately skimming his morning paper and sipping his morning draught.

He was alone, for the habit of early rising was fast following the other virtues of antique Troy, and the members rarely mustered in force before eleven.
He had read all the murders and sporting intelligence, and was about to glance at the affairs of Europe, when Mrs.Cripps, the caretaker, entered in a hurry and a clean white apron.
"If you please, sir, there's Seth Udy's little boy below with a note for you.

I'd have brought it up, but he says he must give it hisself." Sam, descending with some wonder, encountered Mr.Moggridge in the passage.

The rivals drew aside to let each other pass.

On the doorstep stood a ragged urchin, and waved a letter.
"For you, sir; an' plaise you'm to tell me 'yes' or 'no,' so quick as possible." Sam took the letter, glanced at the neat, feminine handwriting of the address, and tore open the envelope.
"Dear Mr.Buzza, If you care to remember what was spoken the other evening, you will to-night help a _most unhappy woman_.