, 'but that is
very, very long ago, or at least it seems so. I was always confused
and giddy at that place you took me from; and could never remember,
and sometimes couldn't even understand, what they said to me. I--let me
see--let me see!'

'You are wandering now,' said Nicholas, touching him on the arm.

'No,' replied his companion, with a vacant look 'I was only thinking
how--' He shivered involuntarily as he spoke.

'Think no more of that place, for it is all over,' retorted Nicholas,
fixing his eyes full upon that of his companion, which was fast settling
into an unmeaning stupefied gaze, once habitual to him, and common even
then. 'What of the first day you went to Yorkshire?'

'Eh!' cried the lad.

'That was before you began to lose your recollection, you know,' said
Nicholas quietly. 'Was the weather hot or cold?'

'Wet,' replied the boy. 'Very wet. I have always said, when it has
rained hard, that it was like the night I came: and they used to crowd
round and laugh to see me cry when the rain fell heavily. It was like a
child, they said, and that made me think of it more. I turned cold all
over sometimes, for I could see myself as I was then, coming in at the
very same door.'

'As you were then,' repeated Nicholas, with assumed carelessness; 'how
was that?'

'Such a little creature,' said Smike, 'that they might have had pity and
mercy upon me, only to remember it.'

'You didn't find your way there, alone!' remarked Nicholas.

'No,' rejoined Smike, 'oh no.'

'Who was with you?'

'A man--a dark, withered man. I have heard them say so, at the school,
and I remembered that before. I was glad to leave him, I was afraid of
him; but they made me more afraid of them, and used me harder too.'

'Look at me,' said Nicholas, wishing to attract his full attention.
'There; don't turn away. Do you remember no woman, no kind woman, who
hung over you once, and kissed your lips, and called you her child?'

'No,' said the poor creature, shaking his head, 'no, never.'

'Nor any house but that house in Yorkshire?'

'No,' rejoined the youth, with a melancholy look; 'a room--I remember
I slept in a room, a large lonesome room at the top of a house, where
there was a trap-door in the ceiling. I have covered my head with the
clothes often, not to see it, for it frightened me: a young child with
no one near at night: and I used to wonder what was on the other side.
There was a clock too, an old clock, in one corner.