“Hold your tongue, James,” said the magistrate. “Take the boy away, John.” “Please, sir, where am I going to?” asked Clare. “To prison, till we find out about you.” “Please, sir, I didn’t mean to steal her. I didn’t know the parish wanted her!” “Take the boy away, I tell you!” cried the magistrate angrily. “His tongue goes like the hopper of a mill!” James, carrying the baby on one arm, was already pushing Tommy before him by the neck. Tommy howled, and rubbed his red eyes with what was left him of cuffs, but did not attempt resistance. “Please, don’t let anybody hold her upside down, policeman!” cried Clare. “She doesn’t like it!--Oh, baby! baby!” John tightened his grasp on his arm, and hurried him away in another direction. Where the big policeman issued with his charge, there was Abdiel hovering about as if his spring were wound up so tight that it wouldn’t go off. How he came to be at that door, I cannot imagine. When he spied Tommy, he rushed at him. Tommy gave him a kick that rolled him over. “Don’t want _you_, you mangy beast!” he said, and tried to kick him again. Abdiel kept away from him after that, but followed the party to the workhouse, where also, to his disgust, plainly expressed, he was refused admittance. He returned to the entrance by which Clare had vanished from his eyes the night before, and lay down there. I suspect he had an approximate canine theory of the whole matter. He knew at least that Clare had gone in with the others at that door; that he had not come out with them at the other door; that, therefore, in all probability, he was within that door still. The police made inquiry at Mr. Maidstone’s shop. Reasons for his dismissal were there given involving no accusation: there was little desire in that quarter to have the matter searched into. There was therefore nothing to the discredit of the boy, beyond his running to earth in the neglected house like a wild animal. After three days he was set at liberty. As the big policeman led the way to the door to send him out, Clare addressed him thus: “Please, Mr. James, may I go back to the house for a little while?” “Well, you _are_ an innocent!” said James; “--or,” he added, “the biggest little humbug ever I see!--No, it’s not likely!” “I only wanted,” explained Clare, “to set things straight a bit. The house is cleaner than it was, _I_ know, but it is not in such good order as when we went into it. I don’t like to leave it worse than we found it.” “Never you heed,” said James, believing him perfectly before he knew what he was about. “The house don’t belong to nobody, so far as ever I heerd, an’ the things’ll rot all the same wherever they stand.” “But I should like,” persisted Clare. “I couldn’t do it off my own hook, an’ his worship would think you only wanted to steal something. The best thing you can do is to leave the place at once, an’ go where nobody knows nothing agin you.”