sinking on the stone, gathered her frail limbs in a heap and buried
her face in the old cloak.

Chester heard the whole conversation; he saw the expression of meek
despair which fell upon the child as the door closed against her,
and with a swelling heart mounted the steps.

"My little girl," he said very gently, touching the crouching form
with his hand, "my poor, little girl!"

The child looked up wildly, for the very benevolence of his voice
frightened her, she was so unused to anything of the kind; but the
instant her eyes fell upon his bosom, where the silver star glittered
in the moonlight, she uttered a faint shriek.

"Oh, do not--do not take me--I am not a thief--I am not wicked!" and
she shrunk back into a corner of the iron railing shuddering, and
with her wild eyes bent upon him like some little wounded animal
hunted down by fierce dogs.

"Don't be frightened--I will take care of you--I"--

"They took _her_--the policemen, I mean. Where is she? What have you
done with her?"

"But I wish to be kind," said Chester, greatly distressed; she
interrupted him, pointing to his star with her finger.

"Kind? see--see. I tell you I am not a thief!"