from the vacant chair to the black-robed figure standing by the
door and looking at him in puzzled amazement. Phantoms of the past? Yes,
indeed, and here was one more come to torment him and to mock at him.
The two watched each other in silence for a moment. Then, the man
crouching in his chair by the fire found voice at last:

"What brings you here, you, of all men? Have you come to taunt me, to
upbraid me, to delight your eyes with the sight of my misery? Have you
come to laugh at me in my downfall?"

"Nay, friend," returned the priest gently, "none of those things has
brought me to you to-day. I come only on a mission of mercy, to bring
you peace and pardon."

"But how did you find me; who sent you to me?" demanded the man by the
fire.

"A little old woman, Nancy by name, told me there was one here sadly in
need of the ministrations of a priest. I did not dream that I should
find _you_."

"You know me then; you remember me?"

"I remember you perfectly and recognized you at once, though you have
changed almost beyond recognition."

"You say you know me, but you do not, you do not. You may know _who_ I
am, but you don't know _what_ I am. You don't know that I'm a thief.
Yes, a thief, for it was I who took that money he was accused of
stealing. Do you know that?"

"I know it," answered the priest calmly, "and still I say I bring you
peace and pardon."

"Perhaps you know, too, that I am a murderer, for it was grief,
heartbreak, which weakened him so that when disease attacked him he had
not sufficient strength to combat the fever. Do you now that, you who
talk to me so easily of peace and pardon?"

"I know that, too, and it is in his name that I offer you forgiveness
for your sins."

"You know all then? He told you?"

"He told me in the delirium of fever. He never knew he told; he died
thinking he carried the secret with him to the grave. He was faithful
even unto death."

"Faithful even unto death. And you, his brother, come to me now and,
knowing all, dare to hold out to me the hope of forgiveness and of
peace?" and the man stared incredulously into the kind, pitying eyes
bent upon him.

"I, his brother, offer you now forgiveness of all your sins and peace
which surpasseth all understanding."

The sick man was seized with a violent fit of coughing and when it had
passed, he lay back in his chair exhausted, with closed eyes and white,
pain-drawn face. The priest, wishing to give him a moment to rest