ed glances, and a stifling sensation of pain and
suspense was felt by all his listeners.) "We were accustomed, brother,
to talk of these children, to picture their future, to compare our
hopes and dreams. We hoped and dreamed alike. A short time sufficed to
establish this confidence. My prisoner was sent to head-quarters, and
soon afterwards exchanged.

"We met no more till last year. Being then at Paris, I inquired for my
old friend, and learned that he was living at R--, a few miles from the
capital. I went to visit him. I found his house empty and deserted. That
very day he had been led to prison, charged with a terrible crime. I saw
him in that prison, and from his own lips learned his story. His son had
been brought up, as he fondly believed, in the habits and principles of
honorable men, and having finished his education, came to reside with
him at R--. The young man was accustomed to go frequently to Paris. A
young Frenchman loves pleasure, sister; and pleasure is found at Paris.
The father thought it natural, and stripped his age of some comforts to
supply luxuries to the son's youth.

"Shortly after the young man's arrival, my friend perceived that he was
robbed. Moneys kept in his bureau were abstracted, he knew not how, nor
could guess by whom. It must be done in the night. He concealed himself
and watched. He saw a stealthy figure glide in, he saw a false
key applied to the lock; he started forward, seized the felon, and
recognized his son. What should the father have done? I do not ask you,
sister! I ask these men: son and father, I ask you."

"Expelled him the house," cried I.

"Done his duty, and reformed the unhappy wretch," said my father. "Nemo
repente turpissinus semper fait,--No man is wholly bad all at once."

"The father did as you would have advised, brother. He kept the youth;
he remonstrated with him: he did more,--he gave him the key of the
bureau. 'Take what I have to give,' said he; 'I would rather be a beggar
than know my son a thief.'"

"Right! And the youth repented, and became a good man?" exclaimed my
father.

Captain Roland shook his head. "The youth promised amendment, and seemed
penitent. He spoke of the temptations of Paris, the gaming-table, and
what not. He gave up his daily visits to the capital. He seemed to apply
to study. Shortly after this, the neighborhood was alarmed by reports
of night robberies on the road. Men, masked and armed, plundered
travellers, and even brok