I heard him say hurriedly, "Take care of him when
I'm in India"; and then with a heartrending voice he called out,
"Leonore, Leonore!" She was kneeling by his side now. The patient
voice sank into faint murmurs; only a moan now and then announced that
he was not asleep.

At the usual evening hour the chapel bell began to toll, and Thomas
Newcome's hands outside the bed feebly beat time. And just as the last
bell struck, a peculiar sweet smile shone over his face, and he lifted
up his head a little, and quickly said, "Adsum!" and fell back. It was
the word we used at school when names were called; and lo, he, whose
heart was as that of a little child, had answered to his name, and
stood in the presence of The Master.

IV

LONDON IN THE TIME OF THE FIRST GEORGE[24]

We have brought our Georges to London city, and if we would behold its
aspect may see it in Hogarth's lively perspective of Cheapside or read
of it in a hundred contemporary books which paint the manners of that
age. Our dear old Spectator looks smiling upon the streets, with their
innumerable signs, and describes them with his charming humor. "Our
streets are filled with Blue Boars, Black Swans, and Red Lions, not to
mention Flying Pigs and Hogs in Armor, with other creatures more
extraordinary than any in the deserts of Africa." A few of these
quaint old figures still remain in London town. You may still see
there, and over its old hostel in Ludgate Hill, the "Belle Sauvage" to
whom the Spectator so pleasantly alludes in that paper; and who was,
probably, no other than the sweet American Pocahontas,[25] who rescued
from death the daring Captain Smith. There is the "Lion's Head," down
whose jaws the Spectator's own letters were passed; and over a great
banker's in Fleet Street, the effigy of the wallet, which the founder
of the firm bore when he came into London a country boy.

[Footnote 24: From the "Four Georges."]

[Footnote 25: Pocahontas, after her marriage with John Rolfe in 1616,
went to England. She spent some time in London, but in March of the
following year died at Gravesend. Her exact burial place is unknown.]

People this street, so ornamented, with crowds of swinging chairmen,
with servants bawling to clear the way, with Mr. Dean in his cassock,
his lackey marching before him; or Mrs. Dinah in her sack, tripping to
chapel, her footboy carrying her ladyship's great prayer book; with
itinerant tradesmen, singing their hundred cries