'Francis Bramwell, Esq.
Boland's Ait,
South London Canal.'
What is your name? Tell me your name, my little man."
"Frank," said the child in a frightened voice.
"Yes. What else?"
"Mellor."
"What!" shouted Ray, catching up the boy from the floor and holding the little face close to the lamp.
"Did not you see his name on his face? Look! Is it not her face? Philip, I am suffocating!"
Ray gazed at the child long and eagerly. Bramwell, swaying to and fro by his chair, kept his eyes on the rosy face of the boy. The boy blinked at the light, and looked from one man to the other with wide-open, unconcerned eyes. At length Ray put the little fellow on the floor. The boy went to the table and began looking at the papers spread upon it. From his self possessed, unabashed manner, it was plain he was well accustomed to strangers.