"I'll not go there, to-night," he murmured faintly. "I'll go
nowhere to-night. Boy! straight down this long-arched passage, and
past the great dark door into the yard,--you see the fire shining
on the window there."

"The woman's fire?" inquired the boy.

He nodded, and the naked feet had sprung away. He came back with
his lamp, locked his door hastily, and sat down in his chair,
covering his face like one who was frightened at himself.

For now he was, indeed, alone. Alone, alone.



CHAPTER II--The Gift Diffused



A small man sat in a small parlour, partitioned off from a small
shop by a small screen, pasted all over with small scraps of
newspapers. In company with the small man, was almost any amount
of small children you may please to name--at least it seemed so;
they made, in that very limited sphere of action, such an imposing
effect, in point of numbers.

Of these small fry, two had, by some strong machinery, been got
into bed in a corner, where they might have reposed snugly enough
in the sleep of innocence, but for a constitutional propensity to