pen or Starlit, and see if ever they've got anything agen
me. And here's a man as never ill-used a 'orse, and on'y kicked young
Shock now and then when he'd been extry owdacious, and you say as I
tried to upset the load on young un here. Why, master, I'm ashamed on
yer. I wouldn't even ha' done it to you."

I felt sorry for Ike, and my sympathies were against Old Brownsmith, who
seemed to be treating him rather hardly, especially when he said
shortly:

"Did you fasten off that hind rope?"

"Yes, master, I did fasten off that hind rope," growled Ike.

"Then, now you're out o' breath with talking, go and get your sleep.
Don't start later than twelve."

Ike uttered a low grunt, and went off with his hands in his pockets, and
Old Brownsmith came and laid his hand upon my shoulder.

"Pretty well bed-time, Grant, my boy. Let's go in."

I followed him in, feeling rather low-spirited, but when he had lit a
candle he turned to me with a grim smile.

"Ike didn't like what I said to him, but it won't do him any harm."

I looked at him, wondering how he could treat it all so coolly, but he
turned off the conversation to something else, and soon after he showed
me my bedroom--a neat clean chamber at the back, and as I opened the
window to look out at the moon I found that there was a vine growing up
a thick trellis right up to and round it, the leaves regularly framing
it in.

There was a comfortable-looking bed, and my box just at the foot, and I
was so weary and low-spirited that I was not long before I was lying
down on my left side, for I could not lie on my right on account of my
shoulder being bad.

As I lay there I could look out on the moon shining among the vine
leaves, and it seemed to me that I ought to get out and draw down the
blind; but while I was still thinking about it I suppose I must have
dropped asleep, for the next thing that seemed to occur was that I was
looking at the window, and it was morning, and as I lay trying to think
where I was I saw something move gently just outside.

At first I thought it was fancy, and that the soft morning light had
deceived me, or that one of the vine leaves had been moved by the wind;
but no, there was something moving just as Shock's head used to come
among the young shoots of the plum-trees above the wall, and, sure
enough, directly after there was that boy's head with his eyes above the
sill, staring right in upon me as I lay in bed.

CHAPTER EIGHT.