' else, I'll take water. I can't talk without
somethin' soaky."

My wife rose. "If we are to listen to another story," she said, "I want
something to keep up my strength. I shall go into the dining-room and
make some tea, and Aunt Martha can give these men some of that if she
likes."

The ladies now left the room, followed by Alice. Presently they called
me, and, leaving the burglars in charge of the vigilant David, I went to
them. I found them making tea.

"I have been upstairs to see if George William is all right, and now I
want you to tell me what you think of that man's story," said my wife.

"I don't think it a story at all," said I. "I call it a lie. A story is
a relation which purports to be fiction, no matter how much like truth
it may be, and is intended to be received as fiction. A lie is a false
statement made with the intention to deceive, and that is what I believe
we have heard to-night."

"I agree with you exactly," said my wife.

"It may be," said Aunt Martha, "that the man's story is true. There are
some things about it which make me think so; but if he is really a
criminal he must have had trials and temptations which led him into his
present mode of life. We should consider that."

"I have been studying him," I said, "and I think he is a born rascal,
who ought to have been hung long ago."

My aunt looked at me. "John," she said, "if you believe people are born
criminals, they ought to be executed in their infancy. It could be done
painlessly by electricity, and society would be the gainer, although you
lawyers would be the losers. But I do not believe in your doctrine. If
the children of the poor were properly brought up and educated, fewer of
them would grow to be criminals."

"I don't think this man suffered for want of education," said my wife;
"he used very good language; that was one of the first things that led
me to suspect him. It is not likely that sons of boat-builders speak so
correctly and express themselves so well."

"Of course, I cannot alter your opinions," said Aunt Martha, "but the
story interested me, and I very much wish to hear what that other man
has to say for himself."

"Very well," said I, "you shall hear it; but I must drink my tea and go
back to the prisoners."

"And I," said Aunt Martha, "will take some tea to them. They may be bad
men, but they must not suffer."

I had been in the library but a few moments when Aunt Martha entered,
followed by Alice, who