chooner. The boy, coming
out from his retreat as soon as the coast was clear, made all haste in
the other direction.

Following up the street, which turned and twisted in the puzzling
fashion peculiar to Boston, he was glad to find it leading him to the
upper part of the city; and after fifteen minutes' smart walking, he
came out into a broad avenue, lined on both sides with handsome houses.
Here he would surely meet with some one to whom he could safely tell
his story.

Weary from excitement and exertion, he sat down upon a broad doorstep,
which was in the shadow itself, but commanded a stretch of sidewalk
illuminated by a street lamp. He thought he would rest there a while,
and in the meantime some one would surely come along. Just as he sat
down, the bell of a church-tower clock near by slowly tolled out the
midnight hour.

"Oh, gracious! how late it is!" he sighed. "I do hope I shall not have
to stay here all the night!"

A few minutes later he heard the sound of approaching steps. They were
slow and deliberate, not those of an unsteady reveller. They came
nearer and nearer, and then there emerged into the line of light the
figure of a man, tall and stately, wrapped in a black dress, over whose
cloak collar fell long locks of snow-white hair.

Not a moment did Eric hesitate. Springing from his hiding-place with a
suddenness that caused the passer-by to start in some alarm, he caught
hold of the ample cloak, and, lifting up his face to the wearer, said
beseechingly, "Oh, sir, won't you help me?"

Quite reassured on seeing how youthful was this sudden disturber of his
homeward walk, the gentleman looked down at the eager, pleading face,
and, attracted at once by its honesty, put his hand kindly upon the
boy's shoulder, saying,--

"Pray, what is the matter, my son? I will gladly help you, as may be
within my power."

The grave, gentle words, with their assurance of protection, wrought a
quick revulsion in poor Eric's feelings, strained as they had been for
so long to their highest pitch. Instead of replying at once, he burst
into tears; and his new-found friend, seeing that he had no ordinary
case to deal with, took him by the arm, and soothingly said,--

"Come with me. My house is near by. You shall tell me your story
there."

Directing his steps to a large house, in which lights were still
burning, he led Eric into a room whose walls were lined with rows of
portly volumes.

"Now, my son," s