sorry for. I wished, however, to be left to my own
reflections; so I soon afterward took up my candle and retired to my
room.

I turned the subject over in my mind in a hundred ways, but could not
come to any conclusion as to the best method of proceeding. At last I
thought I would see Peter Anderson the next day, and take his advice. I
was out immediately after breakfast; but I could not find Anderson, so I
walked to the hospital to see Spicer. I found Anderson sitting by his
bedside, but they were not then conversing. After a short time Anderson
rose, and giving a slight shake of the head, as if to inform me that he
had had no success, he walked away.

"He has been trying to convert me," said Spicer, with a grim smile.

"He has been trying, Spicer, to bring you to a sense of your condition;
and is he not kind? he can have no interest but your own good. Do you
think that no one knows the sins you have committed except
yourself?--there is one eye which sees all."

"Come, Jack, no preaching."

"Spicer, you are here under a false name, and you think no one knows
anything about you; but everything has been discovered by me; and I
cannot help thinking that it has been made known providentially, and for
your good."

"Ah!" replied Spicer, "and pray what do you know? Perhaps you can tell
me all the sins I have committed."

"No, Spicer, but perhaps I can tell you of sins which you yourself are
not aware of. But first answer me--you know that you cannot live long,
Spicer; will you acknowledge that what I state is correct, should it
really be so?"

"I give you my word that if you tell me anything about me which is
true, I will freely acknowledge it; so now, Mr. Fortuneteller, here's my
hand--it may be useful, you know, in helping your discovery."

"I do not want your hand, Spicer--now hear me. Is not your name
James?--and were you not born at Tynemouth?"

Spicer started. "How did you find that out? Well, Tom, it is so, and
what then?"

"As you told me yourself, although I knew it before, your father was
lost at sea about the time that you were born. Spicer, I know how you
left your mother, and how you returned from _you know where_--how you
robbed her of every farthing, and left her again destitute and in
misery. Is there nothing to repent of in that, Spicer?"

"Who the devil--"

"Nay, Spicer, the devil has had nothing to do with the discovery."

"Strange, strange indeed," muttered Spicer; "but still, it is tru