"Have I forgot!" exclaimed Haxall, with a sudden revulsion of feeling. "No, d----d me, not altogether. I thought there was something devilish queer in your voice. So you was the man, and I am the b'hoy. Oh, what a cussed beast I am to insult you! Give us your hand. I ask your pardon, sir. I ask your pardon. And," he added, looking fiercely round, "if there's a man here who crooks his thumb at ye, I swear I'll whip him within an inch of his life." "Swear not at all," said the mild Quaker, "nor talk of fighting, as if thou wert a dog. I see, notwithstanding thy coarseness and vile language, thou art not all evil, and, if thou wilt come with me, I will endeavor to repair my former neglect, by putting thee in a situation where thou mayst become an useful man." The boy hesitated. Two impulses seemed to be drawing him in opposite directions. He was afraid of the ridicule of his companion, and of the sneer which he saw on his face, and who, now, was urging him to leave with him. Yet, there was something peculiarly attractive about the Quaker that was difficult to resist. The good Quaker read the indecision of his mind, and understood the cause. "Come," he said, "be a man, and choose for thyself like a man. Thou shalt remain with me only so long as thou wilt, and shalt be free to leave at thy pleasure." "That's fair," said Haxall. "I'll go with you, sir. Goodbye, Bill," he exclaimed, turning to his companion, and extending his hand. But Bill, thrusting both his hands into his pockets, refused the hand, and answered contemptuously-- "If you've turned sniveller, go and snivel with Broadbrim. I've nothing to say to such a mean-spirited devil." "You're a mean devil yourself," retorted Haxall, all his fiery passions kindling at the other's taunt. "Come, my young friend," said the gentleman, drawing him away gently, "return not railing for railing. I trust the time may yet come, when reproach, instead of exciting anger, will only be an incentive to examine thy bosom more closely, to see if thou dost not deserve it." Long before the conclusion of this conversation, the original cause of it had entered the house with Pownal, and, upon his departure, the little crowd had gradually dispersed, so that, when the benevolent Quaker left, with the boy whom he hoped should be a brand plucked from the burning, very few persons remained. Bill followed his departing companion with a scornful laugh, but the latter--as if his good angel stood by his side to strengthen him--had resolution enough to disregard it.