"Who are they?" whispered the landlord.
"No-good, I suppose," said Mr. Codlin.
"They're no harm," said Short, "depend upon that. It's very plain, besides, that they're not used to this way of life. Don't tell me that handsome child has been in the habit of prowling about as she's done these last two or three days. I know better. The old man ain't in his right mind. Haven't you noticed how anxious he is always to get on--furder away--furder away? Mind what I say, he has given his friends the slip, and persuaded this delicate young creatur all along of her fondness for him to be his guide--where to, he knows no more than the man in the moon. I'm not a-going to stand that!"
"You're not a-going to stand that!" cried Mr. Codlin, glancing at the clock, and counting the minutes to supper time.
"I," repeated Short, emphatically and slowly, "am not a-going to stand it. I am not a-going to see this fair young child a-falling into bad hands. Therefore, when they develop an intention of parting company from us, I shall take measures for detaining of 'em, and restoring 'em to their friends, who, I dare say, have had their disconsolation pasted up on every wall in London by this time."
"Short," said Mr. Codlin, looking up with eager eyes, "it's possible there may be uncommon good sense in what you've said. If there should be a reward, Short, remember that we're partners in everything!"
Before Nell retired to rest in her poor garret she was a little startled by the appearance of Mr. Thomas Codlin at her door.
"Nothing's the matter, my dear; only I'm your friend. Perhaps you haven't thought so, but it's me that's your friend--not him. I'm the real, open-hearted man. Short's very well, and seems kind, but he overdoes it. Now, I don't."
The child was puzzled, and could not tell what to say.
"Take my advice; as long as you travel with us, keep as near me as you can. Recollect the friend. Codlin's the friend, not Short. Short's very well as far as he goes, but the real friend is Codlin--not Short."