began to press about him, some
kissing his hands. He gave each a kindly greeting. It was like
the night of the party on Cedar Hill. A moment more, and the crowd
was filing away, some looking back curiously at Trove, who stood,
his arms about the old man.

"Courage, boy!" the latter was saying; "I know it cuts thee like a
sword, an' would to God I could have spared thee even this. Look!
in yon high window I can see the sunlight, an', believe me, there
is not a creature it shines upon so happy as I. God love thee,
boy, God love thee!"

He put his cheek upon that of the boy and stroked his hair gently.
Then a little time of silence, and the storm had passed.

"A fine, fine lad ye are," said Darrel, looking proudly at the
young man, who stood now quite composed. "Let me take thy hand.
Ay, 'tis a mighty arm ye have, an' some day, some day it will shake
the towers."

"You will both dine with me in my quarters at one," said the
warden, presently.

Trove turned with a look of surprise.

"Thank ye, sor; an' mind ye make room for Wit an' Happiness," said
the tinker.

"Bring them along--they're always welcome at my table," the warden
answered with a laugh.

"Know ye not they're in prison, now, for keeping bad company?" said
Darrel, as he turned. "At one, boy," he, added, shaking the boy's
hand. "Ah, then, good cheer an' many a merry jest."

Darrel left the room, waving his hand. Trove and the warden made
their way to the prison office.

"A wonderful man!" said the latter, as they went. "We love and
respect him and give him all the liberty we can. For a long time
he has been nursing in the hospital, and when I see that he is
overworking I bring him to my office and set him at easy jobs."

Darrel came presently, and they went to dinner. The tinker bowed
politely to the warden's wife and led her to the table.

"Good friends," said he, as they were sitting down, "there is an
hour that is short o' minutes an' yet holds a week o' pleasure--who
pan tell me which hour it is?"

"I never guessed a riddle," said the woman.

"Marry, dear madam, 'tis the hour o' thy hospitality," said the old
man.

"When you are in it," she answered with good humour.

"Fellow-travellers on the road to heaven," said Darrel, raising his
glass, "St. Peter is fond of a smiling face."

"And when you see him you'll make a jest," were the words of the
warden.

"For I believe he is a lover o' good company," said Darrel.

The wa