g earnestness and recognized the voice of my landlord and that
of the good neighbour in high discussion. Something had been said which
much offended the latter; for the words which I caught from him were
those of remonstrance and reproach.

"'For shame, for shame!' said he, 'you have children of your own, and
they may need a friend one day. Think of them before you do so hard a
thing.'

"'I do think of them,' replied the landlord sharply; 'and, that they
mayn't starve, I must keep my matters straight.'

"'Give him another week or two. You will not feel it. I'll undertake to
_keep_ him. It isn't much, Heaven knows! that I can do for him; but at a
pinch, man should make shift for man. Say you'll do it!'

"'I have told you he must go. I do not say one thing and mean another.'

"'Yes, you do, Lagarde,' continued the persevering lodger. 'You say your
prayers daily and tell Heaven how thankful you are for all it does for
you. Now, _that_ you cannot mean, if you turn a helpless brother from
your doors, who must die of want if you and I desert him. Come, think
again of it. Recollect how the poor lad works--how he is striving and
striving day after day. He will do well at last, and pay us back for
all.'

"There was no doubt as to the individual--the subject of this argument.
He stood listening to his doom, and far, far more grateful to the good
creature who pleaded his cause than distressed by the obstinacy which
pronounced his banishment. I was not kept long in suspense. I retreated
to my den, and sat down in gloomy despair. A loud knock at the door
roused me, and the indignant pride which possessed me melted at once
into humility and love when I beheld the faithful Sebastian--my
sympathizing neighbour.

"'You are to go,' he said bluntly; 'you are to leave this house
to-morrow.'

"'I know it,' I answered; 'I am prepared to go this instant.'

"'And whither?'

"'Into the street,' said I; 'any where--it matters not.'

"'Oh yes! it matters much,' replied my visitor; 'it would not matter to
me, or to your landlord. We are but day-labourers, whom nobody would
miss. You have great things before you: you will do, if you are not
crushed on the way. I am sure of it, and you shall not be deserted.'

"'What do you mean?' I asked.

"'Listen to me. Don't be offended. I am a poor man, and an ignorant one;
but I respect learning, and feel for the distressed. You leave this
house to-morrow; so do I. You seem to have no friends;