"You tell 'im, Nell," said Benny, "'cause he'll b'lieve you."
So Nelly, in her sweet pleading voice, told him all the story of Benny's wrong, and of her father's cruelty, and how even she herself had not escaped his anger.
"And did he beat you, my purty?" said Joe, clenching his fist tightly at the same time.
"Ay, Joe; but I dunna think he know'd what he were a-doin'."
For a few moments the old man's face worked as if in pain. Then he muttered to himself, "Some'at must be done, an' no mistake; but what? Eh, what?" Then he looked at the children again. "Don't yer think you'd better go to hum again to-night?" he said; and he watched eagerly for the effect of his question. Nelly was the first to speak.
"Oh, no," she said; "we should get it worse nor ever. Dad would a'most kill Benny." And the tears welled up into her eyes again.
"I's not goin' to risk it," said Benny stoutly. "I's 'ad hidin's enough to last me a lifetime."
"Ay, ay," said Joe. "I wonder, now——" And he looked reflectively into the fire.
"What are 'e a-wonderin' on?" queried Benny.
But Joe was silent. He had evidently got hold of some idea which he was trying to work out. At length he looked up and said,