, both with them as
built the stocks, and them as wants to pull 'em down. Old kettles to
mend! Vy, you makes me forgit the Sabbath. Sarvent, my lad, and wish you
well out of it; 'spects to your mother, and say we can deal for the pan
and shovel all the same for your misfortin."

The tinker went his way. Lenny's eye followed him with the sullenness of
despair. The tinker, like all the tribe of human comforters, had only
watered the brambles to invigorate the prick of the thorns. Yes, if
Lenny had been caught breaking the stocks, some at least would have
pitied him; but to be incarcerated for defending them, you might as well
have expected that the widows and orphans of the Reign of Terror would
have pitied Dr. Guillotin when he slid through the grooves of his own
deadly machine. And even the tinker, itinerant, ragamuffin vagabond as
he was, felt ashamed to be found with the pattern boy! Lenny's head sank
again on his breast, heavily as if it had been of lead. Some few minutes
thus passed, when the unhappy prisoner became aware of the presence of
another spectator to his shame: he heard no step, but he saw a shadow
thrown over the sward. He held his breath, and would not look up, with
some vague idea that if he refused to see he might escape being seen.

CHAPTER IX.

"_Per Bacco!_" said Dr. Riccabocca, putting his hand on Lenny's
shoulder, and bending down to look into his face--"_Per Bacco!_ my young
friend, do you sit here from choice or necessity?"

Lenny slightly shuddered, and winced under the touch of one whom he had
hitherto regarded with a sort of superstitious abhorrence.

"I fear," resumed Riccabocca, after waiting in vain for an answer to his
question, "that, though the situation is charming, you did not select it
yourself. What is this,"--and the irony of the tone vanished--"what is
this, my poor boy? You have been bleeding, and I see that those tears
which you try to check come from a deep well. Tell me, _povero fanciullo
mio_, (the sweet Italian vowels, though Lenny did not understand them,
sounded softly and soothingly,)--tell me, my child, how all this
happened. Perhaps I can help you--we have all erred; we should all help
each other."

Lenny's heart, that just before had seemed bound in brass, found itself
a way as the Italian spoke thus kindly, and the tears rushed down; but
he again stopped them, and gulped out sturdily,--

"I have not done no wrong; it ben't my fault--and 'tis that which kills