“You came after me?” he said again; and as he once more looked in my eyes, they seemed to make me speak.
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, what is it? Speak out.”
“I—I couldn’t help hearing all you said to Mr Dempster, sir,” I faltered.
“Eh!” he cried, with a start. Then with a smile full of bitterness, “Let it be a lesson to you, boy. Work—strive—do anything sooner than humble yourself as I have done this day. But—but,” he said, as if to himself, “Heaven knows I was driven.”
“Mr Dempster never will lend any one money, sir,” I said hastily; “but if you wouldn’t mind—I don’t want this for a bit. I’ve been saving it up—for a long time—and—by and by—you can pay me again, and—”
I had stammered out all this and then stopped short, drawing my breath hard, for he had seized my hand, and was gripping it so hard that the coin I held was pressed into my fingers, as I gazed up into his face, while he slowly relaxed his hold and looked down into my palm.
“A sovereign!” he said slowly; and then fiercely, “Did your employer send you with that? And,” he cried hastily, “you heard?”
“Yes, sir. I was not listening.”
“How—how long has it taken you to save up this?”