"Stop the boy, Mrs. Bedwin," said Mr. Brownlow; "there is something to go back."
"He has gone, sir," replied Mrs. Bedwin.
"Call after him," said Mr. Brownlow; "it's particular. He's a poor man, and they are not paid for. There are some books to be taken back, too."
The street-door was opened. Oliver ran one way, and the girl another, and Mrs. Bedwin stood on the step and screamed for the boy; but there was no boy in sight, and both Oliver and the girl returned in a breathless state to report that there were no tidings of him.
"Dear me, I am very sorry for that," exclaimed Mr. Brownlow; "I particularly wished those books to be returned to-night."
"Send Oliver with them," said Mr. Grimwig, with an ironical smile; "he will be sure to deliver them safely, you know."
"Yes; do let me take them, if you please, sir," said Oliver; "I'll run all the way, sir."
The old gentleman was just going to say that Oliver should not go out on any account, when a most malicious cough from Mr. Grimwig determined him that he should, and by his prompt discharge of the commission prove to him the injustice of his suspicions, on this head at least, at once.
"You shall go, my dear," said the old gentleman. "The books are on a chair by my table. Fetch them down."