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"I propose that we first conduct your sister safely to the corner

of her own street. Let me take your arm, Miss Pross. This is not

a good city, at this time, for you to be out in, unprotected; and

as your escort knows Mr. Barsad, I will invite him to Mr. Lorry's

with us. Are we ready? Come then!"

Miss Pross recalled soon afterwards, and to the end of her life

remembered, that as she pressed her hands on Sydney's arm and

looked up in his face, imploring him to do no hurt to Solomon,

there was a braced purpose in the arm and a kind of inspiration

in the eyes, which not only contradicted his light manner, but

changed and raised the man. She was too much occupied then with

fears for the brother who so little deserved her affection, and

with Sydney's friendly reassurances, adequately to heed what she

observed.

They left her at the corner of the street, and Carton led the way

to Mr. Lorry's, which was within a few minutes' walk. John

Barsad, or Solomon Pross, walked at his side.