that even
you would be a coward if you had such long long frights. You know that
to get to Dan's, after the gates are locked, the only way is to go over
the railing, and through Dr Lane's garden, and I'm always frightened to
death lest his great dog should be loose, and should catch hold of me.
He did growl last night. And then as I was hurrying back--you know it
was rather moonlight last night, and not very cold--and who should I see
but the Doctor himself walking up and down the garden. I crouched in a
minute behind a thick holly-tree, and I suppose I made a rustle, though
I held my breath, for the Doctor stopped and shook the tree, and said
`shoo,' as though he thought a cat were hidden there. I was half dead
with fright, though I did hope, after all, that he would catch me, and
that I might be sent away from this horrid place. But when he turned
round, I crept away, and made the signal, and they let down the sheet,
and then, as they were hauling me up, I heard voices--I suppose they
must have been yours and Kenrick's; but they thought it was some master,
and doused the glim, and oh! so nearly let me fall; so, Walter, please
don't despise me, or be angry with me because you found me crying and
shivering in bed. The cold made me shiver, and I couldn't help crying;
indeed I couldn't."

"Poor Arty, poor Arty," said Walter, soothingly. "But have they ever
done this before?"

"Yes, once, when you were at the choir-supper, one night."

"They never shall again, I swear," said Walter, frowning, as he thought
how detestably cruel they had been. "But what did they send you for?"

"For no good," said Eden.

"No; I knew it would be for no good, if it was to Dan's that they sent
you."

"Well, Walter, the first time it was for some drink; and the second time
for some more drink," he said, after a little hesitation.

Walter looked serious. "But don't you know, Arty," he said, "that it's
very wrong to get such things for them? If they want to have any
dealings with that beast Dan, who's not fit to speak to, let them go
themselves. Arty, it's very wrong; you mustn't do it."

"But how can I help it?" said the boy, looking frightened and ashamed.
"Oh, must I always be blamed by every one," he said, putting his hands
to his eyes. "It isn't my sin, Walter, it's theirs. They made me."

"_Nobody can ever make anyone else do what's wrong_, Arty."

"Oh, yes; it's all very easy for _you_ to say that, Walter, who can
f