There was a general response of approval to this appeal; and Mr.
Blatchford, seeing the utter uselessness of further parleying, left the
room, followed by Charlie and the gentleman with whom he had been
conversing.

Mr. Blatchford was placed in a most disagreeable position by this revolt on
the part of his workmen; he had just received large orders from some new
banks which were commencing operations, and a general disruption of his
establishment at that moment would have ruined him. To accede to his
workmen's demands he must do violence to his own conscience; but he dared
not sacrifice his business and bring ruin on himself and family, even
though he was right.

"What would you do, Burrell?" he asked of the gentleman who had followed
them out.

"There is no question as to what you must do. You mustn't ruin yourself for
the sake of your principles. You will have to abandon the lad; the other
alternative is not to be thought of for a moment."

"Well, Charles, you see how it is," said Mr. Blatchford, reluctantly.
Charlie had been standing intently regarding the conversation that
concerned him so deeply. His face was pale and his lips quivering with
agitation.

"I'd like to keep you, my boy, but you see how I'm situated, I must either
give up you or my business; the latter I cannot afford to do." With a great
effort Charlie repressed his tears, and bidding them good morning in a
choking voice, hastened from the room.

"It's an infernal shame!" said Mr. Blatchford, indignantly; "and I shall
think meanly of myself for ever for submitting to it; but I can't help
myself, and must make the best of it."

Charlie walked downstairs with lingering steps, and took the direction of
home. "All because I'm coloured," said he, bitterly, to himself--"all
because I'm coloured! What will mother and Esther say? How it will distress
them--they've so built upon it! I wish," said he, sadly, "that I was dead!"
No longer able to repress the tears that were welling up, he walked towards
the window of a print-store, where he pretended to be deeply interested in
some pictures whilst he stealthily wiped his eyes. Every time he turned to
leave the window, there came a fresh flood of tears; and at last he was
obliged to give way entirely, and sobbed as if his heart would break.

He was thus standing when he felt a hand laid familiarly on his shoulder,
and, on turning round, he beheld the gentleman he had left in Mr.
Blatchford's office. "Com