contrary, it is running
him down fast, and as he staggers forward into the darkest hour of that
cruel night, it treads on his heels and begins to drag him back.

Is there no home? no voice of a friend? no helping hand to save him from
that worst of all enemies--his evil self?

It was nearly five o'clock when, without knowing how he got there, he
found himself on the familiar ground of Shy Street. In the dim
lamplight he scarcely recognised it at first, but when he did it seemed
like a final stroke of irony to bring him there, at such a time, in such
a mood. What else could it be meant for but to remind him there was no
escape, no hope of losing himself, no chance of forgetting?

That gaunt, empty window of Number 13, with the reflected glare of the
lamp opposite upon it, seemed to leer down on him like a mocking ghost,
claiming him as its own. What was the use of keeping up the struggle
any longer? After all, was there not one way of escape?

What was it crouching at the door of Number 13, half hidden in the
shade? A dog? a woman? a child?

He stood still a moment, with beating heart, straining his eyes through
the gloom. Then he crossed. As he did so the figure sprang to its feet
and rushed to meet him.

"I knowed it, gov'nor; I knowed you was a-comin'," cried a familiar
boy's voice. "It's all right now. It's all right, gov'nor!"

Never did sweeter music fall on mortal ears than these broken,
breathless words on the spirit of Reginald. It was the voice he had
been waiting for to save him in his extremity--the voice of love to
remind him he was not forsaken; the voice of trust to remind him some
one believed in him still; the voice of hope to remind him all was not
lost yet. It called him back to himself; it thawed the chill at his
heart, and sent new life into his soul. It was like a key to liberate
him from the dungeon of Giant Despair.

"Why, Love, is that you, my boy?" he cried, seizing the lad's hand.

"It is so, gov'nor," whimpered the boy, trembling with excitement, and
clinging to his protector's hand. "I knowed you was a-comin', but I was
a'most feared I wouldn't see you too."

"What made you think I would come?" said Reginald, looking down with
tears in his eyes on the poor wizened upturned face.

"I knowed you was a-comin'," repeated the boy, as if he could not say it
too often; "and I waited and waited, and there you are. It's all right,
gov'nor."

"It _is_ all right, old fellow,