Tobias' brow furrowed as he eyed the child, trying to decide his next course of action. Knowing that the kid had tried to pickpocket him because he had no other source of income, Tobias was even less inclined to hand him over to the police to be birched or imprisoned. On principle, he still believed that if the kid could not find work, he should have gone to the workhouse rather than steal. Yet a more compassionate side of him suspected that neither police nor workhouse would do child any good, as the former would merely teach him brutality, of which the boy had probably seen more than enough in his short, unhappy life, and he'd clearly run away from the latter.

Compassion trumped principle, and Tobias' mind was made up.

"So if you were in a job, you wouldn't steal?" he asked, as he reached his free hand into the travel bag that lay on the wagon and pulled out a bread roll he had bought for the journey back. "Are you hungry, then?" He let go of the kid's wrist, but made sure not to do so before the food was in full view.