rel, who every one
condemns?" demanded Mrs Dashwood, with sudden indignation.

"Well, that depends--"

"Bloater," said Mary, with increasing earnestness, "I cannot bribe you--
I have not the means even if I had the will; but I would not if I could.
I scorn bribery. If you will not aid me for the sake of a poor,
helpless, infatuated girl, who is on the brink of ruin--"

"Missis Dashwood," said the Bloater, with a look of serio-comic dignity,
"I scorns bribery as much as you does. `No bribery, no c'rupt'ons, no
Popery,' them's my mottoes--besides a few more that there's no occasion
to mention. W'ether or not I gives 'im up depends on circumstances.
Now, I s'pose _you_ want's 'im took an' bagged, 'cause 'e ain't fit for
your friend Martha Reading--we'll drop the `Miss' if you please. Well,
wot I want to know is, does Martha think as you does?"

"Of course not, boy. No doubt she knows that he is an unworthy
scoundrel, but she can't prevail on herself to forsake him; so, you see,
I want to help her a little."

"Ah, I see--yes--I see. Well, missis, I'll take it into consideration.
Come along, Jim."

Without waiting for a reply, the Bloater quitted the house abruptly,
followed by his friend. He walked very fast towards the City--so fast
that Jim was compelled to trot--and was unusually silent. He went
straight to the abode of Martha Reading, and found her sewing and
weeping.

"Ha! _he's_ bin with you, I see," said the Bloater. "Did 'e ask you to
let 'im 'ide 'ere?"

"Ye-es;" said Martha, hesitating; "but I refused to do it. God knows
how willing--how willing--I would be to shelter and save him if I
could!"

"Would you shelter a _guilty_ man?" demanded the Bloater, sternly.

"I don't know that he is guilty," said Martha, evasively. "But, tell
me, what did Mrs Dashwood want with you?"

"That's a private matter," said the Bloater, frowning. "You can't turn
me off the scent like that. I ask you, ain't it right to 'and a guilty
man over to justice?"

"It is," replied Martha, wiping her eyes, "but it is also right to
temper justice with mercy."

"I say, that's drawin' it rather fine, ain't it?" said the Bloater,
screwing up one eyebrow and turning towards Little Jim; but that small
youth was so touched with the poor girl's sorrow and so attracted by her
countenance, that he had quite forgotten his patron for the moment.
Going towards her, he laid his dirty little hand on her knee, and looked
up in her