u will never more be warned by me.'

So saying, the stout seaman left the astonished agent and wended his way
towards the cottage of the poor man Johnson, whither we shall precede
him. It is needless to remind the reader that the way was perfectly
familiar to him.

Dark are the shadows that cross the poor man's path, and few and far
between are the glimpses of hope that come to lighten them. The Eternal
in his wisdom has ordained that such should be--but Oh! woe! woe! ten
thousand times ten thousand woes, does he deserve who oppresses where he
should relieve, who becomes the destroyer where he should have been the
comforter; and yet there exist ten thousand such who thrive and roll in
luxury, while human hearts are bursting in their agony.

CHAPTER IV.

THE POOR MAN'S HOME.

Standing a little aloof from the other cottages, as if conscious of its
poor appearance, was a shed; it could hardly be called any thing else,
for it appeared originally to have been nothing more than an out-house
belonging to another building, and such in fact it had been. The roof
was decayed in many places, and covered partly with rank moss. It was
situated in a hollow, and the marshy soil around bore evident proof that
it was subject to be overflowed in rainy weather. Four or five squalid,
ragged children, with pinched features and thin limbs, sat huddled in a
heap on the muddy ground, watching the road with anxious eyes--eyes so
bright with hunger that they seemed like those of so many rats. The
youngest--it was not two years old, cried--the elder beat it. Start not,
reader, it is human nature. The little creature hid her wizen face in
her withered little hands and sobbed. A man rode by just then. It was
the agent on his way to the castle, for this was the morning of Curly
Tom's escape. Instinctively the children drew closer together and
shuddered. They did not know why, but they knew their father feared him.
He passed on, and the little faces seemed to brighten for a moment; the
eldest was but seven. Long ere the dawn their father had started for the
market town, some five miles off, in the vain hope that an old friend
there would help him. Ah, poor children! there they sat from the first
ray of daylight, and the bright sun was now glittering high above their
heads, shining upon their desolation and upon the castle turrets,
wherein dwelt in luxury their oppressor. The events we have described as
taking place at the castle were sti