"Magwitch," he answered, in the same tone; "chrisen'd Abel."

     "What were you brought up to be?"

     "A warmint, dear boy."

     He answered quite seriously, and used the word as if it denoted some profession.

     "When you came into the Temple last night--" said I, pausing to wonder whether that could really have been last night, which seemed so long ago.

     "Yes, dear boy?"

     "When you came in at the gate and asked the watchman the way here, had you any one with you?"

     "With me? No, dear boy."

     "But there was some one there?"

     "I didn't take particular notice," he said, dubiously, "not knowing the ways of the place. But I think there was a person, too, come in alonger me."

     "Are you known in London?"

     "I hope not!" said he, giving his neck a jerk with his forefinger that made me turn hot and sick.