The keeper of the poorhouse received Harry in sullen silence, and conducted him to the chamber in which he had been ordered to keep him a close prisoner. He apparently had lost all confidence in him, and regretted that he had connived at his escape. Harry did not like the cold and repulsive deportment of his late friend. Mr. Nason had always been kind to him; now he seemed to have fallen in with Squire Walker's plans, and was willing to be the instrument of the overseer's narrow and cruel policy. Before, he had taken his part against the mighty, so far as it was prudent for him to do so; now, he was willing to go over to the enemy. The reverse made him sadder than any other circumstance of his return--sadder than the fear of punishment, or even of being sent to live with Jacob Wire. "I've got back again," said Harry, when they reached the chamber in which he was to be confined. "I see you have," replied Mr. Nason, in freezing tones. The keeper had never spoken to him in such tones, and Harry burst into tears. His only friend had deserted him, and he felt more desolate than ever before in his life. "You needn't cry, now," said Mr. Nason, sternly. "I can't help it," sobbed the little prisoner. "Can't you?" Mr. Nason sneered as he spoke, and his sneer pierced the heart of Harry. "O, Mr. Nason!" "There--that will do. You needn't blubber any more. You have made your bed, and now you can lie in it;" and the keeper turned on his heel to leave the room. "Don't leave me yet," pleaded Harry. "Leave you? What do you want of me? I suppose you want to tell me I advised you to burn the barn." "I didn't set the barn afire!" exclaimed Harry, now for the first time realizing the cause of his friend's displeasure. "Don't lie." "I speak the truth. I did not set it afire, or even know that it was going to be set on fire." Mr. Nason closed the door which he had opened to depart. The firm denial, as well as the tone and manner of the boy, arrested his judgment against him. He had learned to place implicit confidence in Harry's word; for, though he might have told lies to others, he never told them to him. "Who did burn the barn?" asked the keeper, looking sternly into the eye of the culprit. Harry hesitated. A sense of honor and magnanimity pervaded his soul. He had obtained some false notions; and he did not understand that he could hardly be false to one who had been false to himself--that to help a criminal conceal his crime was to conspire against the peace and happiness of his fellow-beings. Shabbily as Ben Smart had used him, he could not make up his mind to betray him. "You don't answer," added Mr. Nason. "I didn't do it." "But who did?" "I don't like to tell." "Very well; you can do as you like. After what I had done for you, it was a little strange that you should do as you have." "I will tell you all about it, Mr. Nason, if you will promise not to tell."