“Then what in the world are you here for if the quarrel is none of yours?” “I seed the men coming, and as there was a row on I thought I’d come too.” “Ah! there are plenty of lads about like you, I suppose? I have heard of you. Such as you do most of the mischief that is done, don’t you?” “That’s about it, sir,” said the lad, grinning as if he thought it was a very fine thing, though that expression changed to one of shame when Arthur looked at him steadily. “There is not much gain to be got out of such a life as that, you know,” said Arthur, gravely. “It is not anything to be proud of really, is it? I think it is a pity for a strong, likely lad such as you are to take up with that sort of thing. I wouldn’t if I were you. I call it a waste of good power, because you are sharp enough to make your way in the world if you will only set about it in the right fashion.” “I ain’t got nobody to show me the way, nor I ain’t got nobody to help me.” “Oh, yes, you have! You’ve got me, and I shall be very glad to help you. I will find some work for you, and if you don’t know how to do it, you shall be taught, and put in the way of earning an honest living. Will you do your best?” The lad hesitated. He really felt that he was giving up a great deal. The prospect which Arthur held out was not very alluring. He and his companions considered that “earning an honest living” was far too slow a thing for them. But somewhere under his ragged waistcoat the lad had a heart, and Arthur had found his way to it, as to so many more of the same kind. “Yes, I will, sir!”—the words were spoken quite solemnly—“I will, indeed, sir, to make up for hurting of ye.” “Very good! Shake hands upon it.” The steady tramp of the policemen’s feet was heard in the grounds, and Arthur opened the door. Hancourt came forward. “Where is the boy?” he asked. “Oh, the boy is all right! I am not going to give him into custody; and, Hancourt, will you tell those fellows that things are quiet, and send them about their business? If they see me with my head bandaged, I suppose they will think they ought to do something, and there is nothing for them to do.” Arthur was getting anxious. He had no doubt that his father would be angry with him; but he had done what he felt sure was the only right thing to do, and he was not without hope that he would bring his father to his way of thinking. But he was desirous of getting it over as soon as possible, and he rang the bell and inquired of the servant if she knew where Mr. Knight was. She replied that she had heard him go into the library and shut the door some time ago.