"My secret need not alarm you," Alicia went on, in tones that began to
sound rather sadly; "it is only about a tiny pasteboard box that I can
carry in the bosom of my dress. But it has got three diamonds in it,
Frank, and one beautiful ruby. Did you ever give me credit for having so
much that was valuable about me?--shall I give it you to keep for me?"

I remembered directly Old File's story of Mrs. Dulcifer's elopement, and
of the jewels she had taken with her. It was easy to guess, after what I
had heard, that the poor woman had secretly preserved some of her little
property for the benefit of her child.

"I have no present need of money, darling," I answered; "keep the box in
its present enviable position." I stopped there, saying nothing of the
thought that was really uppermost in my mind. If any unforeseen accident
placed me within the grip of the law, I should not now have the double
trial to endure of leaving my wife for a prison, and leaving her
helpless.

Morning dawned and found us still awake. The sun rose, Mrs. Baggs left
off snoring, and we arrived at the last stage before the coach stopped.

I got out to see about some tea for my traveling companions, and looked
up at the outside passengers. One of them seated in the dickey looked
down at me. He was a countryman in a smock-frock, with a green patch
over one of his eyes. Something in the expression of his uncovered eye
made me pause--reflect--turn away uneasily--and then look again at him
furtively. A sudden shudder ran through me from top to toe; my heart
sank; and my head began to feel giddy. The countryman in the dickey was
no other than the Bow Street runner in disguise.