ample was before the mind of this simple, ignorant child
as she walked hastily on to meet the one who she believed would decide
her fate. To-morow, most likely, Pickles would come to her and ask for
her final decision. She must make up her mind to-day. She had a long way
to walk, and when she reached the street where Father John held his
weekly services the place was already crowded. The preacher had mounted
on his chair and had commenced his discourse. Sue heard one or two
people say, "Look at little Mother Hubbard." But others, again, admired
her costume, and out of respect for the rich silk dress, made way for
her to approach nearer to the preacher.

"Now, Lord Jesus, please do give me the right word," whispered Sue. Then
through her musty veil her eyes were fixed anxiously on Atkins. Was it
more than a coincidence? This was the sentence which fell upon the
expectant ear:

"My dear, dear brothers and sisters, 'tis a wonderfully happy thing to
be good. It gives a man rare courage. You, most of you, knew poor Bob
Daily. Well, he died this morning. He was not a scrap afraid. I was with
him, and he went away rejoicing. He knew he was going straight away to
Jesus--straight away to the arms of Jesus. He told me a queer thing
which had happened to him when he was a young man. He was falsely
accused of a crime which he had not done. He was put in prison. He had
to stay locked up for what he was innocent of for two years. He said he
guessed who had really done the crime, but he did not like to tell on
this man, who was much worse off than himself. He bore the punishment
for the guilty man, and he had his reward. All the time he was in prison
Jesus remained so close to him that He made his heart sing. He says that
he could look back on that part of his life as the very happiest time
that he had ever spent."

"I'm a bit faint-like," said Sue to her nearest neighbor. "Let me out,
please." The people made way for her, and for a moment or so she leant
against the nearest lamp-post. She did not hear another word of the
sermon. She did not need to. When she felt better she walked back to
Great Anvill Street.

* * * * *

That night, just before Pickles went to bed, Sue sought him.

"Pickles, I ha' made up my mind--I ha' made it up quite," she said.

"Well?" asked Pickles.

"You gave me three days, Pickles, and the time 'ull be up to-morrow.
Well, I'll go to prison 'stead o' Peter Harris. I ha'