The Dawn of a To-morrow | Page 8

flag pavement. When he had been in the pawnbroker's
shop he had taken the gold from his purse and thrust it carelessly into
his waistcoat pocket, thinking that it would be easy to reach when he
chose to give it to one beggar or another, if he should see some wretch
who would be the better for it. Some movement he had made in
bending had caused a sovereign to slip out and it had fallen upon the
stones.
He did not intend to pick it up, but in the moment in which he stood
looking down at it he heard close to him a shuffling movement. What
he had thought a bundle of rags or rubbish covered with sacking --some
tramp's deserted or forgotten belongings--was stirring. It was alive, and
as he bent to look at it the sacking divided itself, and a small head,
covered with a shock of brilliant red hair, thrust itself out, a shrewd,
small face turning to look up at him slyly with deep-set black eyes.
It was a human girl creature about twelve years old.
"Are yer goin' to do it?" she said in a hoarse, street-strained voice. "Yer
would be a fool if yer did-- with as much as that on yer."
She pointed with a reddened, chapped, and dirty hand at the sovereign.
"Pick it up," he said. "You may have it."
Her wild shuffle forward was an actual leap. The hand made a
snatching clutch at the coin. She was evidently afraid that he was either
not in earnest or would repent. The next second she was on her feet and

ready for flight.
"Stop," he said; "I've got more to give away."
She hesitated--not believing him, yet feeling it madness to lose a
chance.
"MORE!" she gasped. Then she drew nearer to him, and a singular
change came upon her face. It was a change which made her look oddly
human.
"Gawd, mister!" she said. "Yer can give away a quid like it was
nothin'--an' yer've got more--an' yer goin' to do THAT--jes cos yer 'ad a
bit too much lars night an' there's a fog this mornin'! You take it
straight from me--don't yer do it. I give yer that tip for the suvrink."
She was, for her years, so ugly and so ancient, and hardened in voice
and skin and manner that she fascinated him. Not that a man who has
no To-morrow in view is likely to be particularly conscious of mental
processes. He was done for, but he stood and stared at her. What part of
the Power moving the scheme of the universe stood near and thrust him
on in the path designed he did not know then--perhaps never did. He
was still holding on to the thing in his pocket, but he spoke to her
again.
"What do you mean?" he asked glumly.
She sidled nearer, her sharp eyes on his face.
"I bin watchin' yer," she said. "I sat down and pulled the sack over me
'ead to breathe inside it an' get a bit warm. An' I see yer come. I
knowed wot yer was after, I did. I watched yer through a 'ole in me
sack. I wasn't goin' to call a copper. I shouldn't want ter be stopped
meself if I made up me mind. I seed a gal dragged out las' week an' it'd
a broke yer 'art to see 'er tear 'er clothes an' scream. Wot business 'ad
they preventin' 'er goin' off quiet? I wouldn't 'a' stopped yer --but w'en
the quid fell, that made it different."
"I--" he said, feeling the foolishness of the statement, but making it,
nevertheless, "I am ill."
"Course yer ill. It's yer 'ead. Come along er me an' get a cup er cawfee
at a stand, an' buck up. If yer've give me that quid straight--
wish-yer-may-die--I'll go with yer an' get a cup myself. I ain't 'ad a bite
since yesterday--an' 't wa'n't nothin' but a slice o' polony sossidge I
found on a dust-'eap. Come on, mister."
She pulled his coat with her cracked hand. He glanced down at it

mechanically, and saw that some of the fissures had bled and the
roughened surface was smeared with the blood. They stood together in
the small space in which the fog enclosed them--he and she--the man
with no To-morrow and the girl thing who seemed as old as himself,
with her sharp, small nose and chin, her sharp eyes and voice --and
yet--perhaps the fogs enclosing did it--something drew them together in
an uncanny way. Something made him forget the lost clew to the
lodging-house-- something made him turn and go with her--a thing led
in the dark.
"How can you find your way?" he said. "I lost mine."
"There ain't