walk no longer, he obtained rest and refreshment in
the cookshop which he remembered so well; sitting on a stool near the
window, from which he could still command a view of the street. The
gas-lamps were alight, and the long winter's night was beginning to set
in, when he resumed his weary march from end to end of the pavement. As
the darkness became complete, his patience was rewarded at last. Passing
the door of a pawnbroker's shop, he met one of the women face to face,
walking rapidly, with a little parcel under her arm.

She recognized him with a cry of joyful surprise.

"Oh, sir, how glad I am to see you, to be sure! You've come to look
after Sally, haven't you? Yes, yes; she's safe in our poor place--but
in such a dreadful state. Off her head! clean off her head! Talks of
nothing but you. 'I'm in the way of his prospects in life.' Over and
over and over again, she keeps on saying that. Don't be afraid; Jenny's
at home, taking care of her. She wants to go out. Hot and wild, with a
kind of fever on her, she wants to go out. She asked if it rained. 'The
rain may kill me in these ragged clothes,' she says; 'and then I shan't
be in the way of his prospects in life.' We tried to quiet her by
telling her it didn't rain--but it was no use; she was as eager as ever
to go out. 'I may get another blow on the bosom,' she says; 'and, maybe,
it will fall on the right place this time.' No! there's no fear of the
brute who used to beat her--he's in prison. Don't ask to see her just
yet, sir; please don't! I'm afraid you would only make her worse, if I
took you to her now; I wouldn't dare to risk it. You see, we can't get
her to sleep; and we thought of buying something to quiet her at the
chemist's. Yes, sir, it would be better to get a doctor to her. But I
wasn't going to the doctor. If I must tell you, I was obliged to take
the sheets off the bed, to raise a little money--I was going to the
pawnbroker's." She looked at the parcel under her arm, and smiled. "I
may take the sheets back again, now I've met with you; and there's a
good doctor lives close by--I can show you the way to him. Oh how pale
you do look! Are you very much tired? It's only a little way to the
doctor. I've got an arm at your service--but you mightn't like to be
seen waiting with such a person as me."

Mentally and physically, Amelius was completely prostrated. The woman's
melancholy narrative had overwhelmed him: he could neither speak nor
act. He mechan