nce from Felix and Mr. Pogram, who were in advance, to Derek; and
the dumb soul seemed suddenly to look through, as one may see all there
is of spirit in a dog reach out to its master. This was the first time
Felix had seen him who had caused already so much anxiety, and that
broad, almost brutal face, with the yearning fidelity in its tragic
eyes, made a powerful impression on him. It was the sort of face one did
not forget and might be glad of not remembering in dreams. What had
put this yearning spirit into so gross a frame, destroying its
solid coherence? Why could not Tryst have been left by nature just a
beer-loving serf, devoid of grief for his dead wife, devoid of longing
for the nearest he could get to her again, devoid of susceptibility to
this young man's influence? And the thought of all that was before the
mute creature, sitting there in heavy, hopeless patience, stung Felix's
heart so that he could hardly bear to look him in the face.

Derek had taken the man's thick, brown hand; Felix could see with what
effort the boy was biting back his feelings.

"This is Mr. Pogram, Bob. A solicitor who'll do all he can for you."

Felix looked at Mr. Pogram. The little man was standing with arms
akimbo; his face the queerest mixture of shrewdness and compassion, and
he was giving off an almost needlessly strong scent of gutta-percha.

"Yes, my man," he said, "you and I are going to have a talk when these
gentlemen have done with you," and, turning on his heel, he began to
touch up the points of his little pink nails with a penknife, in front
of the constable who stood outside the cell door, with his professional
air of giving a man a chance.

Invaded by a feeling, apt to come to him in Zoos, that he was watching
a creature who had no chance to escape being watched, Felix also turned;
but, though his eyes saw not, his ears could not help hearing.

"Forgive me, Bob! It's I who got you into this!"

"No, sir; naught to forgive. I'll soon be back, and then they'll see!"

By the reddening of Mr. Pogram's ears Felix formed the opinion that the
little man, also, could hear.

"Tell her not to fret, Mr. Derek. I'd like a shirt, in case I've got to
stop. The children needn' know where I be; though I an't ashamed."

"It may be a longer job than you think, Bob."

In the silence that followed Felix could not help turning. The laborer's
eyes were moving quickly round his cell, as if for the first time he
realized that he