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naturally in the vagabond way here； sir； both myself and Phil。 You
see what the place is。 You are welcome to a quiet corner of it for
the boy； if the same would meet your views。 No charge made；
except for rations。 We are not in a flourishing state of
circumstances here； sir。 We are liable to be tumbled out neck and
crop； at a moment’s notice。 However； sir； such as the place is； and
so long as it lasts； here it is at your service。”
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With a comprehensive wave of his pipe； Mr George places the
whole building at his visitor’s disposal。
“I take it for granted； sir；” he adds； “you being one of the
medical staff； that there is no present infection about this
unfortunate subject？”
Allan is quite sure of it。
“Because； sir；” says Mr George； shaking his head sorrowfully；
“we have had enough of that。”
His tone is no less sorrowfully echoed by his new acquaintance。
“Still； I am bound to tell you；” observes Allan； after repeating his
former assurance； “that the boy is deplorably low and reduced；
and that he may be—I do not say that he is—too far gone to
recover。”
“Do you consider him in present danger； sir？” inquires the
trooper。
“Yes； I fear so。”
“Then； sir；” returns the trooper； in a decisive manner； “it
appears to me—being naturally in the vagabond way myself—that
the sooner he comes out of the street； the better。 You Phil！ Bring
him in！”
Mr Squod tacks out； all on one side； to execute the word of
command； and the trooper； having smoked his pipe； lays it by。 Jo
is brought in。 He is not one of Mrs Pardiggle’s Tockahoopo
Indians； he is not one of Mrs Jellyby’s lambs； being wholly
unconnected with Borrioboola…Gha； he is not softened by distance
and unfamiliarity； he is not a genuine foreign…grown savage； he is
the ordinary home…made article。 Dirty； ugly； disagreeable to all the
senses； in body a common creature of the common streets； only in
soul a heathen。 Homely filth begrimes him； homely parasites
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devour him； homely sores are in him； homely rags are on him：
native ignorance； the growth of English soil and climate； sinks his
immortal nature lower than the beasts that perish。 Stand forth； Jo；
in uncompromising colours！ From the sole of thy foot to the crown
of thy head； there is nothing interesting about thee。
He shuffles slowly into Mr George’s gallery； and stands huddled
together in a bundle； looking all about the floor。 He seems to know
that they have an inclination to shrink from him； partly for what
he is； and partly for what he has caused。 He； too； shrinks from
them。 He is not of the same order of things； not of the same place
in creation。 He is of no order and no place； neither of the beasts；
nor of humanity。
“Look here； Jo！” says Allan。 “This is Mr George。”
Jo searches the floor for some time longer； then looks up for a
moment； and then down again。
“He is a kind friend to you； for he is going to give you lodging…
room here。”
Jo makes a scoop with one hand； which is supposed to be a
bow。 After a little more consideration； and some backing and
changing of the foot on which he rests； he mutters that he is “wery
thankful。”
“You are quite safe here。 All you have to do at present is to be
obedient； and to get strong。 And mind you tell us the truth here；
whatever you do； Jo。”
“Wishermaydie if I don’t； sir；” says Jo； reverting to his favourite
declaration。 “I never done nothink yit； but wot you knows on； to
get myself into no trouble。 I never was in no other trouble at all；
sir—’sept not knowin’ nothink and starwation。”
“I believe it。 Now attend to Mr George。 I see he is going to
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speak to you。”
“My intention merely was； sir；” observes Mr George； amazingly
broad and upright； “to point out to him where he can lie down；
and get a thorough good dose of sleep。 Now； look here。” As the
trooper speaks； he conducts them to the other end of the gallery；
and opens one of the little cabins。 “There you are； you see！ Here is
a mattress； and here you may rest； on good behaviour； as long as
Mr； I ask your pardon； sir；” he refers apologetically to the card
Allan has given him； “Mr Woodcourt pleases。 Don’t you be
alarmed if you hear shots； they’ll be aimed at the target and not
you。 Now； there’s another thing I would recommend； sir；” says the
trooper； turning to his visitor。 “Phil； come here！”
Phil bears down upon them according to his usual tactics。
“Here is a man； sir； who was found； when a baby； in the gutter。
Consequently； it is to be expected that he takes a natural interest
in this poor creature。 You do； don’t you； Phil？”
“Certainly and surely I do； guv’ner；” is Phil’s reply。
“Now I was thinking； sir；” says Mr George； in a martial sort of
confidence； as if he were giving his opinion in a council of war at a
drum…head； “that if this man was to take him to a bath； and was to
lay out a few shillings in getting him one or two coarse articles—”
“Mr George； my considerate friend；” returns Allan； taking out
his purse； “it is the very favour I would have asked。”
Phil Squod and Jo are sent out immediately on this work of
improvement。 Miss Flite； quite enraptured by her success； makes
the best of her way to Court； having great fears that otherwise her
friend the Chancellor may be uneasy about her； or may give the
judgment she has so long expected； in her absence； and observing
“which you know； my dear physician； and general； after so many
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years； would be too absurdly unfortunate！” Allan takes the
opportunity of going out to procure some restorative medicines；
and obtaining them near at hand； soon returns to find the trooper
walking up and down the gallery and to fall into step and walk
with him。
“I take it； sir；” says Mr George； “that you know Miss
Summerson pretty well？”
Yes； it appears。
“Not related to her； sir？”
No； it appears。
“Excuse the apparent curiosity；” says Mr George。 “It seemed to
me probable that you might take more than a common interest in
this poor creature； because Miss Summerson had taken that
unfortunate interest in him。 ’Tis my case； sir； I assure you。”
“And mine； Mr George。”
The trooper looks sideways at Allan’s sunburnt cheek and
bright dark eye； rapidly meas