"I begin to understand to what you tend," said Mr. Crisparkle, "and highly approve of your caution."
"I needn't repeat that I know nothing yet of the why and wherefore," said Mr. Tartar; "but I also understood to what you tend, so let me say at once that my chambers are freely at your disposal."
"There!" cried Mr. Grewgious, smoothing his head triumphantly. "Now we have all got the idea. You have it, my dear?"
"I think I have," said Rosa, blushing a little as Mr. Tartar looked quickly towards her.
"You see, you go over to Staple with Mr. Crisparkle and Mr. Tartar," said Mr. Grewgious; "I going in and out and out and in, alone, in my usual way; you go up with those gentlemen to Mr. Tartar's rooms; you look into Mr. Tartar's flower-garden; you wait for Miss Helena's appearance there, or you signify to Miss Helena that you are close by; and you communicate with her freely, and no spy can be the wiser."
"I am very much afraid I shall be——"
"Be what, my dear?" asked Mr. Grewgious, as she hesitated. "Not frightened?"
"No, not that," said Rosa, shyly;—"in Mr. Tartar's way. We seem to be appropriating Mr. Tartar's residence so very coolly."
"I protest to you," returned that gentleman, "that I shall think the better of it for evermore, if your voice sounds in it only once."
Rosa not quite knowing what to say about that, cast down her eyes, and turning to Mr. Grewgious, dutifully asked if she should put her hat on? Mr. Grewgious being of opinion that she could not do better, she withdrew for the purpose. Mr. Crisparkle took the opportunity of giving Mr. Tartar a summary of the distresses of Neville and his sister; the opportunity was quite long enough, as the hat happened to require a little extra fitting on.
Mr. Tartar gave his arm to Rosa, and Mr. Crisparkle walked, detached, in front.
"Poor, poor Eddy!" thought Rosa, as they went along.
Mr. Tartar waived his right hand as he bent his head down over Rosa, talking in an animated way.
"It was not so powerful or so sun-browned when it saved Mr. Crisparkle," thought Rosa, glancing at it; "but it must have been very steady and determined even then."
Mr. Tartar told her he had been a sailor, roving everywhere for years and years.
"When are you going to sea again?" asked Rosa.
"Never!"
Rosa wondered what the girls would say if they could see her crossing the wide street on the sailor's arm. And she fancied that the passers-by must think her very little and very helpless, contrasted with the strong figure that could have caught her up and carried her out of any danger, miles and miles without resting.
She was thinking further, that his far-seeing blue eyes looked as if they had been used to watch danger afar off, and to watch it without flinching, drawing nearer and nearer: when, happening to
