nner. He knew very little fear.
The strange life he led gave him a sort of wild pleasure. He winked at
Connie.

"Somethin' wery strange be goin' to 'appen," he said to himself. "A
hamattur like this a-brought in by private horders, an' no perfessional
lesson to be tuk." He thought how he himself would enjoy teaching this
pretty child some of the tricks of the trade. Oh, of course, she was
absolutely invaluable. He didn't wonder that Mammy had brought in such
spoil when Connie was there. But even Freckles had to depart, and Connie
presently found herself alone with the chief.

He stood by the hearth, looking taller and more exactly like a fine
gentleman, and Connie was more and more reassured about him.

"Please, sir----" she began.

"Stop!" he interrupted.

"Mayn't I speak, sir?"

"No--not now. For God's sake don't plead with me; I can't stand that."

"Why, sir?"

But Connie, as she looked up, saw an expression about that mouth and
that jaw which frightened her, and frightened her so badly that all the
agony she had undergone in Mammy Warren's house seemed as nothing in
comparison. The next minute, however, the cruel look had departed.
Simeon Stylites drew a chair forward, dropped into it, bent low, and
looked into Connie's eyes.

"Allow me," he said; and he put his hand very gently under her chin, and
raised her little face and looked at it.

"Who's your father?" he asked.

"Peter Harris."

"Trade?"

"Blacksmith, sir."

"Where do you live?"

"Adam Street, sir; and----"

"Hush! Only answer my questions."

Stylites removed his hand from under the girl's chin, and Connie felt a
blush of pain sweeping over her face.

"How long were you with that woman Warren?"

"Dunno, sir."

"What do you mean by answering me like that?"

"Can't 'elp it, sir. Tuk a fright there--bad fire--can't remember,
please, sir."

"Never mind; it doesn't matter. Stand up; I want to look at your hair."

Connie did so. Simeon took great masses of the golden, beautiful hair
between his slender fingers. He allowed it to ripple through them. He
felt its weight and examined its quality.

"Sit down again," he said.

"Yus, sir."

"You're exactly the young girl I want for my profession."

"Please, sir----"

"Hush!"

"Yus, sir."

"I repeat--and I wish you to listen--that in my profession you would
rise to eminence. You haven't an idea what it is like, have you?"

"No--I mean I'm not sure----"

"You had better keep