The String of Pearls (1850), p. 678

would be this time to-morrow before I dared venture abroad; and who knows what awful things might happen in that space of time? No, I must go to-night. I must go to-night."
He could not help feeling that his going out while the weather was in such a state would excite a great amount of wonder in the house; but that was a minor event in comparison to what might possibly ensue from remaining, so he put on his hat.
Tap—tap! came against the panel of his door.
Todd muttered an awful oath, and then said,—
"Come in."
Mrs. Hardman entered the room.
"I hope I don't intrude upon you, sir, but I was so very anxious to know if the tea was just as you like it, sir."
"Oh, yes—yes. I am going out a little way, my good madam. Only a little way."
"Out, sir?"
"Yes, and why not?—why not ? Oh, dear me! How bad my cough is to be sure, to-night. Eugh!—eugh!"
"Goodness gracious! my dear sir, you will not think of venturing out tonight? Oh, sir!"
"Why not, madam?"
"The wind, sir—the rain, sir—and the wind and the rain together, sir. Oh, dear! It isn't a night to turn out a dog in, not that I like dogs, but I beg, sir, you won't think of it. Only listen, sir. How it does blow, to be sure!"
"Madam!" said Todd, putting on a solemn look, "I must go. It is my duty to go."
"Your duty, sir ?"
"Yes. Whenever the wind blows and the rain comes down, I put a quantity of small change in my pocket, and I go out to see what objects of distress in the streets I can relieve. It is then that 1 feel myself called upon in the sacred name of heavenly charity to see to the wants of my poorer fellow-creatures. It is then that I can find many a one whom I can make happy and comfortable for a brief space, at all events; and that's the way that I am always, you see, madam, with a bad cold."
"Generous man!" said Mrs. Hardman, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron.
"Not at all, madam, not at all. It is one's duty, and nothing else. I feel bound to do it. But I shall want a little something for supper. A nice boiled chicken, if you please, and you will be so good as to get it for me, madam. Take this guinea, if you please, and we can talk about the change, you know, when I want anything else, my good madam."
"My word!" thought Mrs. Hardman. "He is a wonderful lodger, for he forgets all about his change. I feel that it would only vex the poor old gentleman to remind him of it, and that I do not feel justified in doing. A-hem! yes, sir. Oh, certainly, I will get the finest chicken, sir, that can be had."
"Do so, madam, do so. Now I'm going."
"Oh, Lord! there's a gust of wind!"
"I like it—I like it."
"And there's a dash of rain!"
"So much the better. Delightful, delightful, my dear madam. I shall find plenty of poor objects to relieve to-night. Under gateways, I shall find them, crouching upon door-steps, and shivering on spots where a little shelter can be found from the inclemency of the weather. This is my time to try and do a little good with that superfluous wealth which Providence has given me."
Mrs. Hardman made no further opposition to the benevolent intentions of a lodger who continually forgot his change, and Todd fairly left the house.
Little did the landlady think, while she was grasping at the guineas, that there was a reward of a thousand pounds for the apprehension of her lodger, and that