her party, and
said again,

"I hope I haven't hurt you?"

The man against whom he had run, a sun-browned, sinewy, country-looking
man, with grizzled hair and a rough chin, stared at him for a moment, as
if he suspected him to be in jest. But, satisfied of his good faith, he
answered:

"No, friend. You have not hurt me."

"Nor the child, I hope?" said Trotty.

"Nor the child," returned the man. "I thank you kindly."

As he said so, he glanced at a little girl he carried in his arms,
asleep, and shading her face with the long end of the poor handkerchief
he wore about his throat, went slowly on.

The tone in which he said "I thank you kindly," penetrated Trotty's
heart. He was so jaded and foot sore, and so soiled with travel, and
looked about him so forlorn and strange, that it was a comfort to him to
be able to thank anyone, no matter for how little. Toby stood gazing
after him as he plodded wearily away, with the child's arm clinging
round his neck.

At the figure in the worn shoes--now the very shade and ghost of
shoes--rough leather leggings, common frock and broad slouched hat,
Trotty stood gazing, blind to the whole street. And at the child's arm,
clinging round its neck.

Before he merged into the darkness the traveler stopped, and looking
round and seeing Trotty standing there yet, seemed undecided whether to
return or go on. After doing first the one and then the other, he came
back, and Trotty went half way to meet him.

"You can tell me, perhaps," said the man with a faint smile, "and if you
can I am sure will, and I'd rather ask you than another--where Alderman
Cute lives."

"Close at hand," replied Toby, "I'll show you his house with pleasure."

"I was to have gone to him elsewhere to-morrow," said the man,
accompanying Toby, "but I am uneasy under suspicion, and want to clear
myself and to be free to go and seek my bread--I don't know where. So,
maybe he'll forgive my going to his house to-night."

"It's impossible," cried Toby with a start, "that your name's Fern!"

"Eh!" cried the other, turning on him in astonishment.

"Fern! Will Fern!" said Trotty.

"That's my name," replied the other.

"Why, then," cried Trotty, seizing him by the arm and looking cautiously
round, "for Heaven's sake don't go to him! Don't go to him! He'll put
you down as sure as ever you were born. Here, come up this alley, and
I'll tell you what I mean. Don't go to _him_."

His new acquaintance looked as if he