all, he had been trusted; and he had, excusably perhaps,
necessarily perhaps, but still he had failed to fulfil the trust. "But,"
added the Mayor, as if reassuring himself, "but I refused at first to
give her up even to her own father; at first insisted upon waiting till
your return; and it was only when I was informed what you yourself were
that my scruples gave Way."

Waife remained long silent, breathing very hard, passing his hand
several times over his forehead; at last he said more quietly than he
had yet spoken, "Will you tell me where they have gone?"

"I do not know; and, if I did know, I would not tell you! Are they not
right when they say that that innocent child should not be tempted away
by--by--a--in short by you, sir?"

"They said! Her father--said that!--he said that!--Did he--did he say
it? Had he the heart?"

MAYOR.--"No, I don't think he said it. Eh, Mr. Williams? He spoke little
to me!"

MR. WILLIAMS.--"Of course he would not expose that person. But the
woman,--the lady, I mean."

WAIFE.--"Woman! Ah, yes. The bailiff's wife said there was a woman. What
woman? What's her name?"

MAYOR.--"Really you must excuse me. I can say no more. I have consented
to see you thus, because whatever you might have been, or may be, still
it was due to myself to explain how I came to give up the child; and,
besides, you left money with me, and that, at least, I can give to your
own hand."

The Mayor turned to his desk, unlocked it, and drew forth the bag which
Waife had sent to him.

As he extended it towards the Comedian, his hand trembled, and his cheek
flushed. For Waife's one bright eye had in it such depth of reproach,
that again the Mayor's conscience was sorely troubled; and he would have
given ten times the contents of that bag to have been alone with the
vagrant, and to have said the soothing things he did not dare to say
before Williams, who sat there mute and grim, guarding him from being
once more "taken in." "If you had confided in me at first, Mr. Chapman,"
he said, pathetically, "or even if now, I could aid you in an honest way
of life!"

"Aid him--now!" said Williams, with a snort. "At it again! you're not a
man: you're an angel!"

"But if he is penitent, Williams."

"So! so! so!" murmured Waife. "Thank Heaven it was not he who spoke
against me: it was but a strange woman. Oh!" he suddenly broke off with
a groan. "Oh--but that strange woman,--who, what can she be? and Sophy
with her and