only an accident separated the hunchback from his fellows. He thought
with a fierce joy of his son's straight back and shapely limbs. This was
his child, that he could claim and exhibit to the world. Then his delight
changed to a vague terror--the fear of an animal that dreads a trap,
and finds itself caught. He blew out the candle and fell asleep, to dream
of enemies that fled and mocked at him, embarrassed with an infant that
hung like a millstone round his neck.

Within a month the affair of the bricklayer had blown over. The police
made inquiries, and arrested some of the Ivy Street Push, but released
them for want of evidence. In the hospital the bricklayer professed a
complete ignorance of his assailants and their motive. It was understood
that he was too drunk to recognize anyone.

But it was his knowledge of Push methods that sealed his tongue. No one
would risk his skin by giving evidence. If the police had brought the
offenders to book, the magistrates, who seemed to regard these outrages
as the playful excesses of wanton blood, would have let them off with a
light punishment, and the streets would never have been safe for him
again. So he held his tongue, thankful to have escaped so easily.

But burnt on his brain was the vision of a misshapen devil who struck at
him, with snarling lips, and a desperate flight through avenues of silent,
impassive streets that heard with indifference his cry for help. In six
weeks he was back at work, with no mark of his misadventure but a broken
nose, caused by a clumsy boot.

So the Push took to the streets again, and Jonah resumed his visits to
Cardigan Street on Saturday nights. He had concealed his adventure with
the baby from Ada and her mother, feeling ashamed, as if he had discovered