ion; and
having replied a great many times, and with great confidence, 'No
beggar, no beggar, no beggar, sir!' went on to say, that from his window
he had afterwards, and late at night, seen my aunt give this person
money outside the garden rails in the moonlight, who then slunk
away--into the ground again, as he thought probable--and was seen no
more: while my aunt came hurriedly and secretly back into the house, and
had, even that morning, been quite different from her usual self; which
preyed on Mr. Dick's mind.

I had not the least belief, in the outset of this story, that the
unknown was anything but a delusion of Mr. Dick's, and one of the line
of that ill-fated Prince who occasioned him so much difficulty; but
after some reflection I began to entertain the question whether an
attempt, or threat of an attempt, might have been twice made to take
poor Mr. Dick himself from under my aunt's protection, and whether
my aunt, the strength of whose kind feeling towards him I knew from
herself, might have been induced to pay a price for his peace and quiet.
As I was already much attached to Mr. Dick, and very solicitous for his
welfare, my fears favoured this supposition; and for a long time his
Wednesday hardly ever came round, without my entertaining a misgiving
that he would not be on the coach-box as usual. There he always
appeared, however, grey-headed, laughing, and happy; and he never had
anything more to tell of the man who could frighten my aunt.

These Wednesdays were the happiest days of Mr. Dick's life; they were
far from being the least happy of mine. He soon became known to every
boy in the school; and though he never took an active part in any game
but kite-flying, was as deeply interested in all our sports as anyone
among us. How often have I seen him, intent upon a match at marbles
or pegtop, looking on with a face of unutterable interest, and hardly
breathing at the critical times! How often, at hare and hounds, have
I seen him mounted on a little knoll, cheering the whole field on
to action, and waving his hat above his grey head, oblivious of King
Charles the Martyr's head, and all belonging to it! How many a
summer hour have I known to be but blissful minutes to him in
the cricket-field! How many winter days have I seen him, standing
blue-nosed, in the snow and east wind, looking at the boys going down
the long slide, and clapping his worsted gloves in rapture!

He was an universal favourite, and hi