prise.

"I have come purposely," said Mr. Kent, "to see if I cannot induce you
to tell the truth over this affair. I will call you John Smith, if you
like, yet I am sure you are a gentleman; you will not deny that?"

"I neither admit nor deny anything," was the smiling reply; "I have made
up my mind that there will be a certain punishment, and I shall go
through it like a brave man."

"Have you well considered what degradation that punishment will bring
upon you as long as you live?"

His face flushed hotly.

"Since you ask me," he answered, "I tell you frankly, no; I had not
thought of that part of the business at all--it never even occurred to
me; my thoughts were all otherwise engrossed."

"You should take it into consideration," said the magistrate. "I know
nothing of what your position in society may be, but remember, you
voluntarily cut yourself off from all association with even respectable
people; a man who has been in prison cannot expect the countenance or
fellowship of his fellow-men."

"I suppose you are right," replied the young man; "although, believe me,
never a thought of this occurred to me."

"Now, would it not be better to tell the truth? Have you done it for a
wager? is it the trick of a foolish young man? or were you really
tempted to steal the watch?"

Something like a smile curved his handsome lips.

"I cannot tell you," he replied. "I am deeply grateful for your kind
interest--indeed, 1 shall never forget it; but I cannot, in return, tell
you one word."

"Then I can do nothing to help you?"

"No," he answered slowly; "you could not help sending me for trial. Will
you tell me what the probable result will be, supposing, as a matter of
course, that I am found guilty?"

"Most probably, six months imprisonment, without hard labor, if it be a
first offence."

"It is the first of its kind," was the smiling reply.

"You will not let me help you, then, in any way?" said Mr. Kent.

"There is nothing you can do for me," said the young man, gratefully.

"If you take my advice," continued the magistrate, "you will send for
some clever lawyer; tell him the truth, whatever it may be, and while
preserving your incognito, he may be able to do something for you. I
should certainly do so in your place."

"I think not," he replied; "the less stir made about it the better.
Surely in the crowd of a criminal court and in the prison dress, I shall
escape recognition?"

"An admission," thought t