Can you grant us a night's lodging,
sir?"
"Certainly, sir," replied Mr. Cleveland; "have you any means of
getting your family hither? I am told you have six little ones."
"They must walk, sir," replied the stranger, "for our only horse has
been killed by a falling tree; but I have not a word to say. It
might have been my wife or one of my little ones, and, poor as I am,
I can spare none of them."
Mr. Cleveland, whose feelings were at this time in an usually
softened state, got up, and walked rapidly to the book-case to
conceal his emotion, dashed away a tear, and muttered to himself, as
was his wont, "'Tis confoundedly affecting, that's a fact." Then
turning to the stranger, who was in the act of leaving the room, he
said, "If you will wait a few moments I will have my carriage got;
your wife and little ones must not walk on such a night as this."
"God bless you, sir!" said the stranger, in a trembling voice; "but
I am too uneasy to stay a moment longer."
"Well, go on," said Mr. Cleveland, "and the carriage shall come
after you, and I will go in it myself." The stranger brushed his
hand across his eyes, and left the room without speaking a word;
while Dick and Tom exchanged glances of surprise at their master's
uncommon fit of philanthropy; Tom feeling fully assured that the
"poor buckrahs," as he termed them, owed their good fortune to his
seasonable interference.
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