bare, and dropped upon one knee in front of Tom.
Tom sat still and contemplated him soberly a moment. Then he said —
“Rise, lad. Who art thou. What wouldst have?”
The boy rose, and stood at graceful ease, but with an aspect of concern in his face. He said —
“Of a surety thou must remember me, my lord. I am thy whipping-boy.”
“My whipping-boy?”
“The same, your Grace. I am Humphrey — Humphrey Marlow.”
Tom perceived that here was someone whom his keepers ought to have posted him about. The situation was delicate. What should he do? — pretend he