"Well, what if you do not?" said the lady, not understanding; "you can surely carry a message there. Do go at once! I fear the poor old man cannot live long. Think what it is for him to lie there, alone and friendless." Still Reuben hesitated. He would rather she had asked him to walk through fire, he thought, than to enter the work-yard from which he had been so disgracefully dismissed. "Do go, Reuben," said Kate gently; "I know how you feel, and that Savage is the last man you wish to speak with, but do it for the sake of the poor old man." And Reuben went. He approached the works with the hope that he might see some one about who would carry the message for him. But the hope was disappointed. It was the middle of the afternoon, and every one was busy. He saw no one at leisure to whom he dared entrust the message. "Why, Reuben, lad, it's never you," said the old gate-keeper. Reuben winced at the words, though the tone was kind. "Yes, it's me, Samuel," Reuben replied; "I've come with a message to Mr. Savage. Can you tell me where I shall find him?" Samuel indicated the building in which he believed the foreman to be, and then stood watching the lad with an air of amazement as he made his way to it. It seemed to him an extraordinary thing that Reuben should come there and ask for Mr. Savage of all persons. He only hoped that it boded good, that something was in the wind that might restore Reuben to his old place in Mr. Akenside's esteem. But he could not persuade himself that such a thing was likely. Savage was standing just within the workshop, talking in his usual loud dictatorial tone, when Reuben approached. Turning quickly and seeing Reuben beside him, he fairly started with surprise. Then, annoyed at having betrayed himself thus, he turned fiercely upon the young man. "You here!" he exclaimed. "How dare you enter the yard, you rascal? You ought to be in gaol by rights. It was mistaken kindness, in my opinion, to let you go free, and now you have the audacity to show your face here! Be off with you, or I'll give you in charge." "I came here in order to speak with you, Mr. Savage," said Reuben quietly, though his whole soul was aflame with indignation; "and let me warn you to be careful what you say, for I have surely as much right to be at large as you have. There is an old man at the hospital, seriously injured, who I believe is a friend of yours—at least, I have seen him with you more than once. No one there knows who he is, and they fear he cannot live. They want you to go to the hospital and identify him." Savage had changed colour whilst Reuben was speaking. He grew so white that not Reuben alone observed it, but all the workpeople who were near, listening curiously to what passed. "What do you mean?" he asked defiantly. "What cock-and-bull story is this? I know no man at the hospital."