"Lordy!" said Pete, and stooped over Albert, his hands on his knees. "You're sure that's Albert?" asked Reuben, though he really did not doubt it for a moment. "Course I am. That's his face sure enough, though he's as thin as wire." "It's nigh fifteen year since he went away. Wot did he want to come back fur?" "I reckon he's half starved--and he looks ill too." "Well, he's swooneded away, anyhow. Can't you do something to mäake him sensible?" "Poor feller," said Pete, and scratched his head. Reuben was irritated by this display of sentiment. "You needn't go pitying him, nuther--he's a lousy Radical traitor. You do something to mäake him sensible and out he goes." At this juncture Albert opened his eyes. "Hullo," he said feebly. "Hullo," said Pete. Something in his brother's pitiable condition seemed to have touched him. Albert sat up--then asked for some water. Pete fetched a jug, which he held awkwardly to Albert's lips. Then he helped him to a chair, and began to unlace his boots. "Stop that," shouted Reuben--"he äun't to stay here." "You'll let me stop the night," pleaded Albert. "I'll explain things when I'm better. I can't now." "You can go to the Cocks--I wöan't have you in my house." "But I haven't got a penny--cleaned myself out for my railway ticket. I've walked all the way from the station, and my lungs are bad." "Wot did you come here fur?" "It struck me that you might have some natural affection." "Me!--fur a hemmed Radical! You'd better have saved your money, young feller--I'm shut of you." "If you're still harping on my politics," said Albert fretfully, "you needn't worry. Either side can go to the devil, for all I care. I suppose it's natural to brood over things down here, but in London one forgets a rumpus fifteen years old." "I'll never disremember the way you shamed me in '65." "I don't ask you to disremember anything. Only let me have supper and a bed, and to-morrow----" A fit of coughing interrupted him. He strained and shook from head to foot. He had no handkerchief, and spat blood on the floor. "Fäather!" cried Pete, "you can't turn him out lik this." "He's shamming," said Reuben. "Quite so," said Albert, who seemed to have learned sarcasm in exile--"hæmorrhage is so deuced easy to sham." "He's come back to git money out of me," said Reuben, "but he shan't have a penny--I've none to spare." "I don't ask for that to-night--all I ask is food and shelter, same as you'd give to a dog." "Well, I'll leave you to Pete," said Reuben, and walked out of the room. He considered this the more dignified course, and went upstairs to bed. The brothers were left alone, except for Harry, who was busy imitating Albert's cough, much to his own satisfaction.