subsequent movements, the man had no information to give, nor could
even judge whether he intended leaving the city, or only the house.

Thanking him or the information, Teddy went drearily on his way,
more hopelessly convinced than ever that Giovanni had deliberately
stolen the child, and absconded with her.

"Well," muttered he, "all I've got to do now is to tell the master,
and take what I'll get. If he finds the little-no: she's none of
that, nor ever was-if he finds her, and takes her home to them that
lost her, I'll be content, if it's to prison, or to sweeping the
streets, or to be a slave in the South, he sends me."

Arrived at the office, Teddy faithfully performed his morning
duties, and then seated himself to wait for Mr. Barlow, who was
again occupying Mr. Burroughs's office during that gentleman's
absence in the West. While arranging upon his table some papers he
was to copy, Teddy suddenly remembered that other morning, now
nearly a year ago, when Mr. Burroughs had laid upon his very table
the picture and advertisement of the lost child; and all the months
of guilty hesitation and concealment that since had passed seemed to
roll back upon the boy's heart, crushing it into the very dust. He
threw down the pen he had just taken up, and laid his head upon his
folded arms, groaning aloud,--

"Oh! if I had told him then! if I had just told him that morning!"

The door of the office opened quickly; and Mr. Barlow, a grave and
reserved young man, who had never taken much notice of Teddy,
entered, and, as he passed to the inner room, glanced with some