inst the glass, a
mere palpitating Appetite on legs. He had seized me by the collar, and
hauled me into the shop. There, dropping me upon a stool, he bade me
eat. Pride of race prompted me politely to decline, but his language
became so awful that in fear and trembling I obeyed. So soon as I was
finished--it cost him two and fourpence, I remember--we walked down to
the docks together, and he told me stories of the sea and land that made
my blood run cold. Altogether, in the course of three weeks or a month,
we met about half a dozen times, when much the same programme was gone
through. I think I was a fairly frank child, but I said nothing about
him at home, feeling instinctively that if I did there would be an end
of our comradeship, which was dear to me: not merely by reason of
the pastry, though I admit that was a consideration, but also for his
wondrous tales. I believed them all implicitly, and so came to regard
him as one of the most interesting criminals as yet unhanged: and what
was sad about the case, as I felt myself, was that his recital of his
many iniquities, instead of repelling, attracted me to him. If ever
there existed a sinner, here was one. He chewed tobacco--one of the
hundred or so deadly sins, according to my theological library--and was
generally more or less drunk. Not that a stranger would have
noticed this; the only difference being that when sober he appeared
constrained--was less his natural, genial self. In a burst of confidence
he once admitted to me that he was the biggest blackguard in the
merchant service. Unacquainted with the merchant service, as at the time
I was, I saw no reason to doubt him.

One night in a state of intoxication he walked over a gangway and was
drowned. Our mutual friend, the confectioner, seeing me pass the window,
came out to tell me so; and having heard, I walked on, heavy of heart,
and pondering.

About his eternal destination there could be no question. The known
facts precluded the least ray of hope. How could I be happy in heaven,
supposing I eventually did succeed in slipping in, knowing that he, the
lovable old scamp, was burning for ever in hell?

How could Janet, taking it that she reformed and thus escaped damnation,
be contented, knowing the father she loved doomed to torment? The
heavenly hosts, so I argued, could be composed only of the callous and
indifferent.

I wondered how people could go about their business, eat, drink and
be merry, with tr