of the boy's flight, nothing but painful and
deplorable consequences were likely to ensue from it. Death, from want
and exposure to the weather, was the best that could be expected from
the protracted wanderings of so poor and helpless a creature, alone and
unfriended, through a country of which he was wholly ignorant. There was
little, perhaps, to choose between this fate and a return to the tender
mercies of the Yorkshire school: but the unhappy being had established a
hold upon his sympathy and compassion, which made his heart ache at the
prospect of the suffering he was destined to undergo. He lingered on in
restless anxiety, picturing a thousand possibilities, until the evening
of the next day when Squeers returned alone and unsuccessful.

"No news of the scamp!" said the schoolmaster, who had evidently been
stretching his legs, on the old principle, not a few times during the
journey. "I'll have consolation for this out of somebody, Nickleby, if
Mrs. Squeers don't hunt him down. So I give you fair warning."

"It is not in my power to console you, sir," said Nicholas. "It is
nothing to me."

"Isn't it?" said Squeers, in a threatening manner. "We shall see!"

"We shall," rejoined Nicholas.

"Here's the pony run right off his legs, and me obliged to come home
with a hack cob, that'll cost fifteen shillings besides other expenses,"
said Squeers; "who's to pay for that, do you hear?"

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders and remained silent.

"I'll have it out of somebody, I tell you," said Squeers, his usual
harsh, crafty manner changed to open bullying. "None of your whining
vapourings here, Mr. Puppy: but be off to your kennel, for it's past
your bed-time! Come, get out!"

Nicholas bit his lip and knit his hands involuntarily, for his finger
ends tingled to avenge the insult; but remembering that the man was
drunk, and that it could come to little but a noisy brawl, he contented
himself with darting a contemptuous look at the tyrant and walked, as
majestically as he could, upstairs, and sternly resolved that the
outstanding account between himself and Mr. Squeers should be settled
rather more speedily than the latter anticipated.

Another day came, and Nicholas was scarcely awake when he heard the
wheels of a chaise approaching the house. It stopped. The voice of Mrs.
Squeers was heard, and in exultation, ordering a glass of spirits for
somebody, which was in itself a sufficient sign that something
extraordina