with the books of the
bank. My very desperation made me ingenious, and it was not till I had
been away a month with my ill-gotten booty that the frauds were
discovered."

Again he stopped, and I waited with strangely perturbed feelings till he
resumed.

"At first I tried to hide myself, and spent some weeks abroad. But
though I escaped justice, my misery followed me. During those weeks, I,
who till then had been upright and honest, knew not a moment's peace.
At night I never slept an hour together, by day I trembled at every face
I met. The new torture was worse than the old, and at last in sheer
despair I returned to London and courted detection. It seemed as if
they would never find me. The less I hid myself, the more secure I
seemed. At last, however, they found me--it was a relief when they did.

"I acknowledged all, and was sentenced to penal servitude for fourteen
years."

"What!" I exclaimed, springing from my seat. "You are--"

"Hush!" said Mr Smith, pointing up to the ceiling, "you'll wake him.
Yes, I am, or I was, a convict. Listen to the little more I have to
say."

I restrained myself with a mighty effort and resumed my seat.

"I was transported, and for ten years lived the life of a convicted
felon. It was a rough school, my boy, but in it I learned lessons an
eternity of happiness might never have taught me. Christ is very
pitiful. They brought me out of madness into sense, and out of storm
into calm. As I sat at night in my cell I could bear once more to think
of the little ivy-covered cottage, of the green grave in the churchyard,
and of the two helpless children who might still live to call me father.
What had become of them? They were perhaps growing up into boyhood and
girlhood, beginning to discover for themselves the snares and sorrows of
the world which had overcome me. Need I tell you I prayed for those two
night and day? A convict's prayer it was--a forger's prayer, a thief's
prayer; but a father's prayer to a pitiful Father for his children.

"After ten years I received a `ticket-of-leave,' and was free to return
home. But I could not do it yet. I preferred to remain where I was, in
Australia, till the full term of my disgrace was ended, and I was at
liberty as a free and unfettered man to show my face once more in
England. It is not two years since I returned. No one knew me. Even
in--my name had been forgotten. The ivy-covered cottage belonged to a
stranger, an