Cashel Byron's Profession

"I know," said Mellish, gravely. "I am all right; no man more so.

I am Bob Mellish. You ask--"

"Here. Come out of this," said one of the party, a powerful man with

a scarred face and crushed nose, grasping Mellish and thrusting him

into the train. "Y'll 'ave to clap a beefsteak on that ogle of

yours, where you napped the Dutchman's auctioneer, Byron. It's got

more yellow paint on it than y'll like to show in church to-morrow."

At this they all gave a roar of laughter, and entered a third-class

carriage. Lydia and Alice had but just time to take their places in

the train before it started.

"Eeally, I must say," said Alice, "that if those were Mr. Cashel

Byron's and Lord Worthington's associates, their tastes are very

peculiar."

"Yes," said Lydia, almost grimly. "I am a fair linguist; but I did

not understand a single sentence of their conversation, though I

heard it all distinctly."

"They were not gentlemen," said Alice. "You say that no one can tell

by a person's appearance whether he is a gentleman or not; but

surely you cannot think that those men are Lord Worthington's

equals."

"I do not," said Lydia. "They are ruffians; and Cashel Byron is the

most unmistakable ruffian of them all."

Alice, awestruck, did not venture to speak again until they left the

train at Victoria. There was a crowd outside the carriage in which

Cashel had travelled. They hastened past; but Lydia asked a guard

whether anything was the matter. He replied that a drunken man,

alighting from the train, had fallen down upon the rails, and that,

had the carriage been in motion, he would have been killed. Lydia

thanked her informant, and, as she turned from him, found Bashville

standing before her, touching his hat. She had given him no

instructions to attend. However, she accepted his presence as a

matter of course, and inquired whether the carriage was there.

"No, madam," replied Bashville. "The coachman had no orders."

"Quite right. A hansom, if you please." When he was gone she said to

Alice, "Did you tell Bashville to meet us?"

"Oh, DEAR, no," said Alice. "I should not think of doing such a

thing."

"Strange! However, he knows his duties better than I do; so I have

no doubt that he has acted properly. He has been waiting all the

afternoon, I suppose, poor fellow."