“Ah, I recognize you now,” he continued, looking maliciously at the boy Bog.  “You are the young thief that tracked me here, are you?  I’ll settle with you now.”

He sprang from his chair, and strode toward the lad.  He was met halfway by Bog, whom the insulting epithet had stung to the quick.

A foe met halfway is half vanquished.  A single glance at Bog’s clear, courageous eye, and his sinewy proportions, assured young Van Quintem that he had more than his match.

“This—­this is no place for a row,” he faltered.  “I’ll attend to you, some time, in the street.”

“I shall always be ready for you,” said Bog, smiling at this pusillanimous postponement—­which is a mild way of making a clear backout.

Here the attention of all was called off by the appearance of Miss Minford.  The quick ear of the milliner had caught her footstep on the stairs, coming down.  She unlocked the door, and the beautiful object of their search stood before them.  She was very pale, and tears dimmed her eyes.  Mrs. Crull flew toward her, and the poor girl fell on her breast, and cried as if her heart would break.

Good Mrs. Crull helped her to a sofa, and sat down, and strained her young friend closely to her bosom, “Be calm,” said she, “dear child!”

Old Van Quintem and Bog looked on with sad interest.  The young villain stood in a corner, gnawing his finger nails, and revolving schemes of vengeance.  All waited for Miss Minford to become calm before any explanation was sought.

Under the soothing caresses of Mrs. Crull, the young girl soon became comparatively tranquil.  With her head still pillowed on the broad bosom of her protectress, she made a broken statement to the following effect, in response to the tender questionings of that lady: 

She said that she had no thought of leaving the house of her dear friend, until he had told her how much better it would be to earn her own living at some easy and pleasant trade, than to be dependent on one who was not a relative.  He had also told her that, one day, when he was passing the house, he heard Mr. Crull scolding because Mrs. Crull had brought a girl home to be her companion.

At this point, Mrs. Crull turned furiously toward the pale offender.  “You miserable wretch!” said she.  “I only wish my dear old man was here, to thrash you soundly.  Why, he loved this little darling almost as much as I did.  Besides, I’m the mistress of our house; and he never meddles with my affairs.  Go on, dear Pet.”

Pet then stated that he (she never called him by his name) had promised to get a place for her, and that she, supposing he was a true friend, had accepted the offer of his aid.  One day, when they had met by appointment (which was very wrong, she admitted, with a fresh torrent of tears), he told her that he had found a nice situation for her in a milliner’s shop in Greenpoint, and that she must come right away, or she would lose the chance.  She went home, and packed up her few things in a handkerchief, and came with him here in a carriage.  She came directly here, and had not been out of Mrs. Wopping’s sight since then.  Mrs. Wopping had treated her very, very kindly.