"He must go home. Why should he lie here freezing for the sake of that shock-headed rascal? It shall not be our fault."
"No, it shall not be our fault," murmured other voices. In a moment a crowd has collected around me, and increases every moment. Not one of these men was sleeping, any more than myself. All had the same thought in their rude hearts. They want to repair their misbehavior, and do not know how to go about it. One finds a way at last:
"He shall go himself and beg him."
"Yes; that shall he!"
"Where is he?"
"Back yonder."
"Bring him along!"
They rush to the corner where the fellow is crouching, a dozen strong hands lift him to his feet; they drag him to the superintendent, who raises himself from his hard couch as they approach. The light of the nearest lantern falls full in his pale face, shadowed by his dark hair and beard. A happy smile plays about his mouth, and his large eyes beam with strange light.
"I thank you," he said, "I thank you. The hours which your kindness bestows upon me shall be devoted to you. But one thing more, children! This man here is myself: what you do to him, you do to me."
The man had sunk upon his knees before him; he laid his hand, as in blessing, upon his bushy head; and then we turned to the door. I cast a look back: not one of the men had moved from his place. All eyes are fixed upon the superintendent, who is leaving the ward, supported by my arm. But I doubt whether all see him; for in many eyes are glistening tears.