er put out a hand with fingers prodigiously long and thin,
and deftly parted both Little's eyelids with his finger and thumb, so as
to show the whole eye.

"Hum!" said the doctor, and shook his head.

He then patted the sufferer all over, and the result of that examination
was satisfactory. Then came the brandy-and-water; and while Henry's
teeth were clattering at the glass and he was trying to sip the liquid,
Dr. Amboyne suddenly lifted his head, and took a keen survey of the
countenances round him. He saw the general expression of pity on the
rugged faces. He also observed one rough fellow who wore a strange wild
look: the man seemed puzzled, scared, confused like one half awakened
from some hideous dream. This was the grinder who had come into the
works in place of the hand Cheetham had discharged for refusing to grind
cockney blades.

"Hum!" said Dr. Amboyne, and appeared to be going into a brown study.

But he shook that off, and said briskly, "Now, then, what was his crime?
Did he owe some mutual aid society six-and-four-pence?"

"That's right," said Reynolds, sullenly, "throw every thing on the
Union. If we knew who it was, he'd lie by the side of this one in less
than a minute, and, happen, not get up again so soon." A growl of assent
confirmed the speaker's words. Cheetham interposed and drew Amboyne
aside, and began to tell him who the man was and what the dispute; but
Amboyne cut the latter explanation short. "What," said he, "is this the
carver whose work I saw up at Mr. Carden's?"

"This is the very man, no doubt."

"Why, he's a sculptor: Praxiteles in wood. A fine choice they have made
for their gunpowder, a workman that did honor to the town."

A faint flush of gratified pride colored the ghastly cheek a moment.

"Doctor, shall I live to finish the bust?" said Henry, piteously.

"That and hundreds more, if you obey me. The fact is, Mr. Cheetham, this
young man is not hurt, but his nerves have received a severe shock; and
the sooner he is out of this place the better. Ah, there is my brougham
at the gate. Come, put him into it, and I'll take him to the infirmary."

"No," said Little, "I won't go there; my mother would hear of it."

"Oh, then your mother is not to know?"

"Not for all the world! She has had trouble enough. I'll just wash my
face and buy a clean shirt, and she'll never know what has happened. It
would kill her. Oh, yes, it would kill her!"

The doctor eyed him with warm approv