gathered from a crone whom I encountered at the top of the first flight of
steps, that the person of whom I was in quest lived with his family in the
back room of the highest floor; and thither, with unfailing courage, I
proceeded. I arrived at the door, knocked at it briskly without a moment's
hesitation, and recognized the deep and now well-known tones of Warton in
the voice desiring men to enter. The room was very small, and had no
article of furniture except a table and two chairs. Some straw was strewn
in a corner of the room, and two children were lying asleep upon it, their
only covering being a few patches of worn-out carpet. Another layer was in
the opposite corner, similarly provided with clothing. This was the
parents' bed. I was too confused, and too anxious to avoid giving offence,
to make a closer observation. The man and his wife were sitting together
when I entered. The former had still the infant in his arms, and he rose
to receive me with an air of good breeding and politeness, that staggered
me from the contrast it afforded with his miserable condition--his
frightful poverty.

"I have to ask your pardon," said I, "for this intrusion, but your name is
Warton, I believe?"

"It is, sir," he replied--and the eyes of the wife glistened again, as she
gathered hope and comfort from my unexpected visit. She trembled as she
looked at me, and the tears gushed forth again.

("These are not bad people, I will swear it," I said to myself, as I
marked her, and I took confidence from the conviction, and went on.)

"I have come to you," said I, "straight from the sessions'-house, where,
by accident, I was present during your short trial. I wish to be of a
little service to you. I am not a rich man, and my means do not enable me