ld read
it, and scorn him for a hypocrite and a humbug. Durfy would read it,
and chuckle. His mother and Horace would read it. Yes, and what would
they think? Nothing he could say would convince them or anybody. They
might forgive him, but--

The thought made his blood boil within him. He would take forgiveness
from no man or woman. If they chose to believe him guilty, let them;
but let them keep their forgiveness to themselves. Rather let them give
the dog a bad name and hang him. He did not care! Would that they
could!

Such was the rush of thought that passed through his mind as he stood
that bleak winter afternoon in the street, a free man.

Free! he laughed at the word, and envied the burglar with his six
months. What spirit of malignity had hindered Mr Sniff from letting
him lose himself in a felon's cell rather than turn him out "free" into
a world every creature of which was an enemy?

Are you disgusted with him, reader? With his poor spirit, his weak
purpose, his blind folly? Do you say that you, in his shoes, would have
done better? that you would never have lost courage? that you would have
held up your head still, and braved the storm? Alas, alas, that the
Reginalds are so many and the heroes of your sort so few!

Alas for the sensitive natures whom injustice can crush and make cowards
of! You are not sensitive, thank God, and you do not know what crushing
is. Pray that you never may; but till you have felt it deal leniently
with poor Reginald, as he goes recklessly out into the winter gloom
without a friend--not even himself.

It mattered little to him where he went or what became of him. It made
no odds how and when he should spend his last shilling. He was hungry
now. Since early that morning nothing had passed his lips. Why not
spend it now and have done with it?

So he turned into a coffee-shop, and ordered coffee and a plate of beef.

"My last meal," said he to himself, with a bitter smile.

His appetite failed him when the food appeared, but he ate and drank out
of sheer bravado. His enemies--Durfy, and the magistrate, and the
victims of the Corporation--would rejoice to see him turn with a shudder
from his food. He would devour it to spite them.

"How much?" said he, when it was done.

"Ninepence, please," said the rosy-cheeked girl who waited.

Reginald tossed her the shilling.

"Keep the change for yourself," said he, and walked out of the shop.

He was free n