e; the firebrand can't be
saved.'

And dropping his head in his hands as he sat on his low bed, Dan would
mourn over all he had lost in tearless misery, till merciful sleep would
comfort him with dreams of the happy days when the boys played together,
or those still later and happier ones when all smiled on him, and
Plumfield seemed to have gained a new and curious charm.

There was one poor fellow in Dan's shop whose fate was harder than his,
for his sentence expired in the spring, but there was little hope of his
living till that time; and the coldest-hearted man pitied poor Mason as
he sat coughing his life away in that close place and counting the weary
days yet to pass before he could see his wife and little child again.
There was some hope that he might be pardoned out, but he had no friends
to bestir themselves in the matter, and it was evident that the great
Judge's pardon would soon end his patient pain for ever.

Dan pitied him more than he dared to show, and this one tender emotion
in that dark time was like the little flower that sprung up between the
stones of the prison yard and saved the captive from despair, in the
beautiful old story. Dan helped Mason with his work when he was too
feeble to finish his task, and the grateful look that thanked him was
a ray of sunshine to cheer his cell when he was alone. Mason envied the
splendid health of his neighbour, and mourned to see it wasting there.
He was a peaceful soul and tried, as far as a whispered word or warning
glance could do it, to deter Dan from joining the 'bad lot', as the
rebels were called. But having turned his face from the light, Dan found
the downward way easy, and took a grim satisfaction in the prospect of
a general outbreak during which he might revenge himself upon the
tyrannical warden, and strike a blow for his own liberty, feeling that
an hour of insurrection would be a welcome vent for the pent-up passions
that tormented him. He had tamed many a wild animal, but his own lawless
spirit was too much for him, till he found the curb that made him master
of himself.

The Sunday before Thanksgiving, as he sat in chapel, Dan observed
several guests in the seats reserved for them, and looked anxiously
to see if any familiar face was there; for he had a mortal fear that
someone from home would suddenly confront him. No, all were strangers,
and he soon forgot them in listening to the chaplain's cheerful words,
and the sad singing of many hea