‘Gammon!’ said Oliver; ‘shut up for the rest of the night, old boy; let me turn you round, and do you try and get another sleep, which will set you on your pins again in no time, and let me finish my book.’ But Jack’s hour for conversation had come, and he would not be silenced. ‘I say, Constable, I hope I may get over this bout, and be let off this time, to live and make up for some things I’ve done unlike—unlike a gentleman.’ Heaven help the lad! who was too shy in the middle of his forwardness to say a Christian, the young counter-jumper who had his own standard for a man and a gentleman. ‘You may live to behave like a prince, Jack, if you’ll only be careful and not exhaust yourself. Here; swallow this stuff, and snooze away.’ But Jack was at his confessions again, more briskly than before, the moment he had taken the stimulant. ‘I wonder if anybody but the poor old guv’nor, and the mother, and perhaps a good fellow like you, Constable, would care whether I hopped the twig or not? I don’t deserve it from some people. There’s ’Liza—’Liza Polley—’Liza might not have always known her own mind, or rather, her friends went in and bamboozled her, and put a lot of nonsense into her head, but I was not quite fair to ’Liza. I came down hard upon her, when, as it turned out, you were not going after her, and when, if you will believe me,’ said Jack, with emphasis, succeeding in raising himself on his elbow, ‘she never cared a rap for you, it was me she cared for all the time—poor ’Liza!’ ended Jack, falling back with a sigh. The delicious _naïveté_ of the assertion pleased Oliver greatly, while he hastened to give it a handsome corroboration. ‘I am profoundly convinced of the truth of what you say, Jack; and if it would not bring on a fresh attack of fever, I might generously tell you in return that Miss ’Liza Polley met me at break of day the other morning, daring the wrath of her mother, just to hear the last news of your health.’ ‘Did she, though?’ exclaimed Jack, with his poor face brightening into a dim glow of satisfaction; ‘and ’Liza is as frightened as a hare while her mother has been like a she-bear that has been robbed of her whelps, since she sent ’Mily up the spout.’ There was a little pause. Oliver hoped Jack was dropping off to sleep. ‘I’ll not forget it of ’Liza Polley,’ Jack spoke again, with drowsy, lordly magnanimity; ‘it was the best errand she ever ran on. I’ll act on the square to her—on the square all round, please God. And as for Mrs. Polley, won’t the guv’nor make her squeak to a different tune, when he calls to pop the question to the mother for me?’ Yes, Jack was going to recover, to be a man instead of a boy—a good man ‘please God,’ as he had said simply. And it would please the Father of Lights, the source and the reward of all goodness.