CHAPTER VII.
IN WHICH TWO COUPLES TAKE A WALK.
Dr. Ellis proceeded to tell Mary of his boyhood; how he was employed by a bookseller, who, in return for the lad's services, only continued to withhold the merited compensation.
"I remained with him for two years," he went on to say. "Of course I was fed, and clothed, after a fashion, but I had no other incentive to work with him except fear."
"Why did you not run away?" questioned Mary, with reason.
"I did, but only to suffer the more from each attempt to gain my freedom. I was invariably caught. Banks would hear no petitions, and the curious crowd who witnessed my captures thought little of a runaway lad. As for interfering, why, the thought of coming between father and son never entered their heads. When Banks insisted that he was my father, he was believed, and the word of a child was nothing. Each time I tried to escape I was flogged, not before others, for the man was too sharp for that, and was all kindliness when there were spectators. I was threatened with worse ills if I did not obey. I can see Banks yet, and hear his voice, as he said, 'You see, your word is doubted. I can prove that you have apprenticed yourself to me.' Oh, the horror of it!"
"Was the man usually cruel?"
"No; only when I crossed him or appeared dissatisfied. It was the humiliation of it that troubled me, child that I was. I was constantly watched, and seldom allowed to play with boys of my own age. I believe now that he feared I should discover that he had no power to control my movements."
"And how did you finally obtain your release?"