him once. But he ain't Mr.
Falconer, nor Long Bob neither,' added Bobby in a mysterious tone. 'I
know who he is.'

'What do you mean, Bobby? Who is he, then?'

The child answered very slowly and solemnly,

'He's Jesus Christ.'

The woman burst into a rude laugh.

'Well,' said Bobby in an offended tone, 'Slicer's own Tom says so, and
Polly too. We all says so. He allus pats me on the head, and gives me a
penny.'

Here Bobby began to cry, bitterly offended at the way Bessy had received
his information, after considering him sufficiently important to have
his opinion asked.

'True enough,' said his mother. 'I see him once a-sittin' on a
door-step, lookin' straight afore him, and worn-out like, an' a lot o'
them childer standin' all about him, an' starin' at him as mum as mice,
for fear of disturbin' of him. When I come near, he got up with a smile
on his face, and give each on 'em a penny all round, and walked away.
Some do say he's a bit crazed like; but I never saw no sign o' that; and
if any one ought to know, that one's Job's Mary; and you may believe me
when I tell you that he was here night an' mornin' for a week, and after
that off and on, when we was all down in the cholerer. Ne'er a one of us
would ha' come through but for him.'

I made an attempt to rise. The woman came to my bedside.

'How does the gentleman feel hisself now?' she asked kindly.

'Better, thank you,' I said. 'I am ashamed of lying like this, but I
feel very queer.'

'And it's no wonder, when that devil Slicer give you one o' his even
down blows on the top o' your head. Nobody knows what he carry in his
sleeve that he do it with--only you've got off well, young man, and that
I tell you, with a decent cut like that. Only don't you go tryin' to get
up now. Don't be in a hurry till your blood comes back like.'

I lay still again for a little. When I lifted my hand to my head, I
found it was bandaged up. I tried again to rise. The woman went to the
door, and called out,

'Job, the gentleman's feelin' better. He'll soon be able to move, I
think. What will you do with him now?'

'I'll go and get a cab,' said Job; and I heard him go down a stair.

I raised myself, and got on the floor, but found I could not stand. By
the time the cab arrived, however, I was able to crawl to it. When Job
came, I saw the same tall thin man in the long dress coat. His head was
bound up too.

'I am sorry to see you too have been hurt--for my sake, of cou