"'Hallo! you little vagrant, what are you doing here?'
"I rubbed my eyes and looked up. An old gentleman, who had just alighted from a carriage, stood over me, with no very amiable expression of countenance, shaking me as if he would shake a reply out of me by main force.
"I stammered out something—I don't know what—and terrified lest he should give me into the hands of a policeman, I tried to break away from him and fly; but the old gentleman held on like grim death, and seemed not to have the slightest intention of parting with me so easily.
"'You're a pickpocket, ain't you?' said he, sharply.
"'No, sir,' said I, half-angrily, and looking him full in the face, 'I am not.'
"'Then what brought you here,' persisted he, 'if you are not a juvenile thief?'
"'I was tired, sir,' said I, 'and I sat down here to rest, and so fell asleep.'
"The old gentleman kept his sharp eyes fixed on me as if he would read me through, with a strange look of half-recognition on his face.
"'Please to let me go, sir,' said I, again struggling to get free.
"'What's your name, boy?' said the old man, without heeding me in the slightest degree.