out, whisper to him what had passed, and lead him, with the whole
congregation at his heels, to gaze upon the sacrifice offered up to the
joint powers of Nemesis and Themis.




CHAPTER VII.

Unaffectedly I say it--upon the honour of a gentleman, and the reputation
of an author,--unaffectedly I say it, no words of mine can do justice to
the sensations experienced by Lenny Fairfield, as be sat alone in that
place of penance. He felt no more the physical pain of his bruises; the
anguish of his mind stifled and overbore all corporeal suffering,--an
anguish as great as the childish breast is capable of holding.

For first and deepest of all, and earliest felt, was the burning sense
of injustice. He had, it might be with erring judgment, but with all
honesty, earnestness, and zeal, executed the commission entrusted to him;
he had stood forth manfully in discharge of his duty; he had fought for
it, suffered for it, bled for it. This was his reward! Now in Lenny's
mind there was pre-eminently that quality which distinguishes the Anglo
Saxon race,--the sense of justice. It was perhaps the strongest
principle in his moral constitution; and the principle had never lost its
virgin bloom and freshness by any of the minor acts of oppression and
iniquity which boys of higher birth often suffer from harsh parents, or
in tyrannical schools. So that it was for the first time that that iron
entered into his soul, and with it came its attendant feeling,--the
wrathful, galling sense of impotence. He had been wronged, and he had no
means to right himself. Then came another sensation, if not so deep, yet