Ruth would have begged them to leave her alone, and not madden her utterly; but they knew no English save the one eternal "Gi' me a halfpenny." She felt in her heart that there was no pity anywhere.

Suddenly, while she thus doubted God, a shadow fell across her garments, on which her miserable eyes were bent.

She looked up.
The deformed gentleman she had twice before seen, stood there.

He had been attracted by the noisy little crowd, and had questioned them in Welsh, but not understanding enough of the language to comprehend their answers, he had obeyed their signs, and entered the gate to which they pointed.

There he saw the young girl whom he had noticed at first for her innocent beauty, and the second time for the idea he had gained respecting her situation; there he saw her, crouched up like some hunted creature, with a wild, scared look of despair, which almost made her lovely face seem fierce; he saw her dress soiled and dim, her bonnet crushed and battered with her tossings to and fro on the moorland bed; he saw the poor, lost wanderer, and when he saw her, he had compassion on her.
There was some look of heavenly pity in his eyes, as gravely and sadly they met her upturned gaze, which touched her stony heart.
Still looking at him, as if drawing some good influence from him, she said low and mournfully, "He has left me, sir!--sir, he has indeed--he has gone and left me!" Before he could speak a word to comfort her, she had burst into the wildest, dreariest crying ever mortal cried.