"O my young fellow!" said the man, while he laughed very loud, "you are really in a bad fix! A friend, whose very name you have forgotten, will not help you out of the hands of the police."
"O, I shall certainly be able to recall it to my memory!" said Walter, with the tears running down his cheeks.
"My poor child!" said the man, earnestly, "if you can't remember the name before we arrive at the entrance of the town, from which we are not more than a hundred feet distant, you are ruined. The police keep a sharp look-out; without making any bones about it, they will seize you by the throat, and throw you into some dark jail. Then, in the company of rats, toads, and other monsters, you will have plenty of time to think of the name of your kind acquaintance!"
"O good Heaven! In that case, I will not enter the town. I will return, and remain in the village," sobbed the boy, and turned rapidly round to take the direction back to the inn.
"I really pity you, poor little fellow!" said the man, while he held him fast by the arm. "You will be able to earn nothing in the village, but in the town you might do a sure business. I am a good-hearted fellow,—I wish I could help you! H—m! h—m! let me think a minute! How can I possibly do it?—Yes, yes! I have it now! You can stay with me and labor with us. I can say you are my son. I have my papers in my pocketbook, and they state that I, Christopher Pommer, am travelling with my family. How can the police know whether I have one child more or less? If you are satisfied with my proposal, you shall live with us. I will furnish you with enough to eat and drink; you shall live with me as one of my children, and I will give, in addition, a penny every day. There, boy, you have found a good friend; everything found for you, and a penny a day clear! You see I am rather a good-natured fool! Now, then, are you agreed?"
"That depends upon what you will require me to do," said Walter, doubtingly; "for I have never learned to twist about my limbs as you do."
"Ah! it would take you a long time to learn that," answered the man, laughingly. "You will only have to do what you like to do,—to play upon the fiddle. My Minnie plays upon the harp; you can play together in the different houses and in the streets, and all the money that the people may give you for it you are to bring to me. You see it is only out of the kindness of my heart that I offer to serve you, for Minnie can earn as much without you as with you!"
It seemed to Walter that what the man said was true enough. It was certain that Christopher Pommer and his family did not at all please him; but then he had a perfect horror of jails and rats. Yet it was with a feeling of irresistible repulsion that he entered into the proposed arrangement.
"Well, then," said the man, with his harsh, disagreeable laugh, "we must soon commence our preparations for business. What is your name, my son?"
"Walter," he answered, with his head sinking upon his bosom.