‘I ain’t a-going to sleep,’ said the stranger, haranguing from what he evidently felt to be a point of ‘vantage. ‘I’m as steady as a church, and a deal soberer nor e’er a one of you. I wants Missis May, as’ll take me in and do for me thankful, along of her husband, as was my mate.’ ‘Come along, men,’ said Mr. Cattley, sharply. ‘I’m not strong enough to do it myself, and you won’t leave the boy to drag him, will you, not the boy----’ ‘If it’s come to that, sir,’ said the man of the public-house, ‘I’d rather do it nor trouble you. After all, it’s more fit for me to have him than you. Supposing as he can’t pay, I take it you’d rather pay for him than have him in your house. Hey, man, get up and get to bed!’ ‘All I’m wishful for,’ said the man, growing more and more solemn, ‘is for some one to direct me where Missis May’s living. It’s she as will be glad to see me wi’ news--news of her man--as was my mate.’ ‘Thank you, Johnson,’ said Mr. Cattley, with a reluctance which he felt to be unjust. ‘I will certainly pay, and I’m obliged to you, which is more. Do you want the lantern? Then come along, John, you’ve had enough of this dismal sight.’ He went along the remainder of the way, which was not long, in silence, and it was only at his own door that he spoke. ‘John,’ he said, ‘that’s such a spectacle as the Spartans, don’t you remember, gave to their boys.’ ‘It was awfully cruel, sir,’ cried John, ‘they made the Helots drink--and then--it wasn’t the fault of the poor brutes. I would rather go without the lesson than have it like that.’ ‘And I’d rather you had gone without this lesson. I’d rather you knew nothing about it. But we can’t abstract ourselves from the world, and we can’t live in the world without seeing many horrible things. I wonder now whether there was a bit of faithfulness and human feeling at the bottom of all that? Heaven knows!--or it might be the reverse--an attempt to get something out of some poor decent woman to cover her shame. Did you ever hear the name of May about here?’ ‘No,’ said John, ‘never;’ and then he paused for a moment. ‘I seem to know something about the name; but I’m sure there’s no one called May here.’ ‘Not down by Feather Lane?’ said the curate, thoughtfully. ‘I must speak to Miss Summers about it. She will know. Now, here we are at my door, and I shouldn’t have let you come so far. Go quickly home, my dear boy.’