So the night passed. Before daylight the lodgers one by one rose and left the place, and when about half-past seven light struggled once more in between the rafters these two were alone.
The boy seemed a little revived, and sipped some milk which Reginald had darted out to procure.
But the pain and the fever returned twofold as the day wore on, and even to Reginald's unpractised eye it was evident the boy's release was not far distant.
"Gov'nor," said the boy once, with his mind apparently wandering back over old days, "what's the meaning of `Jesus Christ's sake, Amen,' what comes at the end of that there prayer you taught me at the office--is He the same one that's in the _Pilgrim_ book?"
"Yes, old boy; would you like to hear about Him?"
And that afternoon, as the shadows darkened and the fleeting ray of the sun crossed the floor of their room, Love lay and heard the old, old story told in simple broken words. He had heard of it before, but till now he had never heeded it. Yet it seemed to him more wonderful even than _Robinson Crusoe_ or the _Pilgrim's Progress_. Now and then he broke in with some comment or criticism, or even one of his old familiar tirades against the enemies of his new hero. The room grew darker, and still Reginald went on. When at last the light had all gone, the boy's hand stole outside the blanket and sought that of his protector, and held it till the story came to an end.
Then he seemed to drop into a fitful sleep, and Reginald, with the hand still on his, sat motionless, listening to the hard breathing, and living over in thought the days since Heaven in mercy joined his life to that of his little friend.
How long he sat thus he knew not. He heard the voices and tread of the other lodgers in the room; he heard the harsh groan of the bolt on the outer door downstairs; and he saw the candle die down in its socket. But he never moved or let go the boy's hand.
Presently--about one or two in the morning, he thought--the hard breathing ceased, and a turn of the head on the pillow told him the sleeper was awake.
Reginald lay on the bed beside him, and put an arm round him.
The boy became more easy after this, and seemed to settle himself once more to sleep. But the breathing was shorter and more laboured, and the little brow that rested against the watcher's cheek grew cold and damp.