nking that he must move about very silently, for his
uncle's room was beneath, and the servants were only separated from them
by a not too thick wall.

"Poor cook! poor Mary!" he thought. "I should like to kiss them and say
good-bye. How brave cook was; and she is sure to lose her place for
taking my part. Aunt and uncle will never forgive her. How I wish I
had a home of my own and her for housekeeper. But perhaps I shall never
have one now, for what am I going to do when I go?"

That was the great puzzle as he lay there gazing at the window-blind,
faintly illumined by the gas-lamps in the Crescent. What was he to do?
Soldier?--No; he was too young, and wanting in manly aspect. Sailor?--
No. He would like to go to sea, and have adventures; but no, if his
father and mother had lived it would have given them pain to know that
he had run away to enlist, or get on board some coasting vessel.

No; he could not do that. It might be brave and daring, but at the same
time he had a kind of feeling that it would be degrading, and he would
somehow do better than either of those things, and try and show his
uncles, both of them, and Sam too, that if he was a fool, he was a fool
with some good qualities.

But it was quite an hour since it had struck twelve, and it was time to
act. The first thing was to test Sam's sleep--whether he was sound
enough to enable him to make his preparations unheard.

What would be the best thing to do? came again. How could he get work
without a character? What answer could he give people who asked him who
he was, and whence he came?

No answer came, think hard as he would. All was one black, impenetrable
cloud before him, into which he had made up his mind to plunge, and what
his future was to be he could not tell. But let it be what it would, he
mentally vowed that it should be something honest, and he would not let
the blackness of that cloud stay him. No; his mind was fully made up
now. This was his last night at his uncle's house, and he would take
his chance as to where he would next lay his head.

"I shall be free," he muttered half aloud; "now I am like a slave."

It was time to act. Not that he meant to leave the house that night.
No; his mind was made up. He would pack a few things in the little
black bag in which he took his law-books to and fro, place it ready in
the hall as usual, and go in to his breakfast; and when he started for
the office, just call in and say