During the trial that followed, he scarcely breathed; incomprehensible as most of it was to him, he listened to every word, held quiet by a tension and dread which he could not explain away. Never, until the sentence was pronounced, and Helen Morris was doomed to five years' penal servitude, did Robin stir. Just then, the wretched prisoner, whose eyes had hitherto been fixed on the ground, raised them; the first thing she encountered was the sorrowful gaze of the only creature on earth she loved. She uttered a shrill sharp cry, and covered her face with her hands. At this cry, the torpor, which had hitherto kept Robin quiet, left him; he became like a little fury, and fighting his way savagely to right and left, found his way to her side. For one half instant Helen held him in her arms. Let him stay there! he may never again receive a loving embrace. Oh! I think, I think even Justice and the Law might have stood still for one moment to let that woman and that child take another kiss. But no, the police dragged him away, the crowd hustled him out. With jeers and cries of "Thief!" "Son of a thief!" he found himself in the open air. The woman who had spoken to him kindly, pointed now at him with a finger of scorn: and two or three boys, out of mischief, raised the cry of "Stop, thief!" The terrified, angry, sorrowful child, began by giving battle--ended by flying from his tormentors. Down street after street did they pursue him, each moment adding numbers to their train. He ran faster, faster; down court and alley. A church with an open door met his eye; he rushed in for shelter. Into a crimson-cushioned pew he ran. There was no one there. He curled himself up on the softest cushion, and in this calm, sacred spot, cried himself to sleep. In his sleep he dreamt of Helen, and of the beautiful child who had spoken to him kindly. His sorrows were forgotten; he was smiling and dreaming peacefully, when suddenly a hand seized him by his rough hair, and a voice said rudely-- "Now, then, you little varmint, make yerself scarce, this _minute_. Lying down and going to sleep in my lord's pew! 'Tis to the p'leece I should 'and _you_ h'over. What next, I wonder?" As Robin was being ignominiously expelled from God's house, the organ was pealing forth solemn strains, the choir-boys were filing into their places, and my lord himself was approaching his crimson-lined pew. It was a great festival, for which special preparations had been made; who can wonder at the verger being annoyed with Robin? For it had evidently never occurred to this verger, that He for whom the church was built, He, whom they worshipped with solemn strains of music, and much pomp and solemnity, had yet considered this little waif and stray sufficiently worthy of notice to die for him. PART IV. _HOW HE FARED,_