gathering behind the chair was heavier.

"Not content with this, sir, Mrs. William goes and finds, this very
night, when she was coming home (why it's not above a couple of
hours ago), a creature more like a young wild beast than a young
child, shivering upon a door-step. What does Mrs. William do, but
brings it home to dry it, and feed it, and keep it till our old
Bounty of food and flannel is given away, on Christmas morning! If
it ever felt a fire before, it's as much as ever it did; for it's
sitting in the old Lodge chimney, staring at ours as if its
ravenous eyes would never shut again. It's sitting there, at
least," said Mr. William, correcting himself, on reflection,
"unless it's bolted!"

"Heaven keep her happy!" said the Chemist aloud, "and you too,
Philip! and you, William! I must consider what to do in this. I
may desire to see this student, I'll not detain you any longer now.
Good-night!"

"I thank'ee, sir, I thank'ee!" said the old man, "for Mouse, and
for my son William, and for myself. Where's my son William?
William, you take the lantern and go on first, through them long
dark passages, as you did last year and the year afore. Ha ha!
_I_ remember--though I'm eighty-seven! 'Lord, keep my memory
green!' It's a very good prayer, Mr. Redlaw, that of the learned
gentleman in the peaked beard, with a ruff round his neck--hangs
up, second on the right above the panelling, in what used to be,
afore our ten poor gentlemen commuted, our great Dinner Hall.
'Lord, keep my memory green!' It's very good and pious, sir.
Amen! Amen!"