d lay down and hide
somewheres as I knows on till arter dark, and then go and beg a trifle of
Mr. Snagsby. He wos allus willing fur to give me something, he wos, though
Mrs. Snagsby, she wos allus a-chivying me--like everybody everywheres."

"Now, tell me," proceeds Allan, "tell me how it came about that you left
that house when the good young lady had been so unfortunate as to pity you
and take you home?"

Jo suddenly came out of his resignation, and excitedly declares that he
never known about the young lady; that he would sooner have hurt his own
self, and that he'd sooner have had his unfortnet head chopped off than
ever gone a-nigh her; and that she wos wery good to him she wos.

Allan Woodcourt sees that this is not a sham.

"Come, Jo, tell me," he urged.

"No, I durstn't," says Jo. "I durstn't or I would."

"But I must know," returns Allan, "all the same. Come, Jo!"

After two or three such adjurations, Jo lifts up his head again, and says
in a low voice, "Well, I'll tell you something. I was took away. There!"

"Taken away?--In the night?"

Ah! very apprehensive of being overheard, Jo looks about him, and even
glances up some ten feet at the top of the boarding, and through the
cracks in it, lest the object of his distrust should be looking over, or
hidden on the other side.

"Who took you away?"

"I durstn't name him," says Jo. "I durstn't do it, sir."

"But I want, in the young lady's name, to know. You may trust me. No one
else shall hear."

"Ah, but I don't know," replies Jo, shaking his head fearfully, "as he
don't hear. He's in all manner of places all at wunst."

Allan looks at him in perplexity, but discovers some real meaning at the
bottom of this bewildering reply. He patiently awaits an explicit answer,
and Jo, more baffled by his patience than by anything else, at last
desperately whispers a name in his ear.

"Aye," says Allan. "Why, what had you been doing?"

"Nothink, sir. Never done nothink to get myself into no trouble 'cept in
not moving on, and the Inkwich. But I'm moving on now. I'm moving on to
the berryin'-ground--that's the move as I'm up to."

"No, no. We will try to prevent that. But what did he do with you?"

"Put me in a horspittle," replies Jo, whispering, "till I wor discharged,
then gave me a little money. 'Nobody wants you here,' he ses. 'You go and
tramp,' he ses. 'You move on,' he ses. 'Don't let me ever see you nowheres
within forty mile of London, or you'll