"But how happened it that you fell into such hands?"
"I know not. I know neither my birthplace nor my parents. Even my true age is unknown to me. I have nothing in the world, not even so much as a name—only a surname; they called me Mishap. Perhaps my parents were like those wretches. The thought has often come to me, and driven me almost desperate."
Esther did not speak, but her eyes assured Frank that she was listening with deepest interest.
"We lived in a hovel," he continued, "down by the water, opposite Greenwich, and sometimes in a half-decayed barge on the river which was anchored some twenty yards from shore. By day they sent me on land to beg, and beat me if I returned empty-handed. At low tide I used to search the mud which the sea left dry when it retired."
"For what purpose?"
"To look for things which might have fallen into the water. One found all sorts of stuff on the bed of the river,—wood, rope, bits of cloth, and rusty iron. Frequently I encountered fearful things there, such as human remains, bodies of the unfortunate whose death had been unknown and would never be avenged."
"Heavens! what a dreadful business!"
"You are right: a dreadful business indeed! Those who carry it on are called mud-larks; yet little do they resemble those tiny voyagers of the air which sing so proudly, so joyously, which build their nests in the furrows and soar aloft to heaven's gate. The mud-larks crawl along their wretched way, sometimes immersed to the knees in the icy slime, and frequently they fall victims to the fever as the result of their long searches. Nevertheless, the Thames has engulfed much riches, and sometimes it gives it back. There have been cases of poor wretches finding precious jewels there. One summer's day, during a season of excessive drought, the tide being lower than usual, I espied something glittering in the rays of the rising sun. I stooped; it was an old gold piece bearing the effigy of Charles II. Perhaps for a century it had slept there in the mud."
After a moment of silence he continued:—
"How carefully I wiped it! How I caressed it! How long I contemplated that little coin! At first I decided that I would show my treasure-trove to no one. But where could I hide it? I wore neither shoes, stockings, nor shirt; nothing but an old ragged jacket and trousers without pockets. When I was permitted to go to bed I slept upon a sack filled with rags, along with a boy older than myself. I passed the coin from one hand to the other; I even put it in my mouth beneath my tongue. It seemed a fortune in my eyes, and I thought that when I went to London I should be able to buy out the whole town. Yes; ah, but I was way-wise for my years, and I foresaw what would take place were I to offer my sovereign for sale as the gentlemen did. The dealer would exclaim, 'Such as you with a gold piece! You have stolen it!' Forthwith I should be sent to prison, and from there to the smoky hall of the Old Bailey, where I had seen many a little thief condemned to twenty or thirty lashes. I saw myself bound to the terrible wooden bench, black with human blood; I saw the executioner approach with his awful cat-o'-nine-tails. My thin knees knocked together as I drew the mental picture."