"If you please, sir," I answered, trembling, "I've run away."
"Run away from where, you egg?"
"From Gnawbit's, sir."
"And who the pest is Gnawbit, you hempen babe?"
"My schoolmaster, sir."
"Ha! that's good," the Man replied, loosening his hold somewhat on my collar. "And what did you run away for?"
I told him in broken sentences my short Story—of my Sufferings at School, at least, but never saying a word about my being a little Gentleman, and the son of a Lady of Quality in Hanover Square.
"And where are you going?" the Man asked, when I had finished.
I told him that I was on my way to Charlwood Chase to join the Blacks. And then he asked me whether I had any Money, whereto I answered that I had a Guinea; and little doubting in my Quaking Heart but that he would presently Wrench it from me, if haply he were not minded to have Meal as well as Malt, and brain me as he had threatened. But he forbore to offer me violence, and, quite releasing his hold, said—
"I suppose you'd like some supper."