n could trust himself to speak. At
last, having sipped a little of a soothing mixture which Mr Harris had
brought him, he turned his face towards his brother-in-law, who had now
taken a seat in front of him on a three-legged stool, and said, "Shall I
tell you why I sent to you, Mr Huntingdon?" Amos inclined his head.
"It was," continued the sick man, "because I have insulted you, deceived
you, entrapped you, and threatened your life. That would be in most
cases the very reason why you should have been the very last person I
should have sent to. But I believe you are _real_. I believe you are a
true Christian, if there is such a thing. _I_ am not real. I am a
sham, a cheat, a lie; my whole life has been a lie; my unbelief has been
a lie. But, if there is truth in the Bible and in Christianity, I
believe you have found it. I am sure that you are real and genuine. I
felt it when I was deceiving you, and I feel it more and more the more I
think about it. So, as I am told that it is part of the character of
those who really take the Bible for their guide to return good for evil,
I have sent to you."

He had uttered these words in broken sentences, and now sank back
exhausted. When he had recovered himself sufficiently to listen, Amos,
deeply moved, said kindly and earnestly, "You did right, my poor friend,
to send to me; and now I am here, I must see what I can do for you."

"But, can you really forgive me?" said the other, fixing his dark eyes
on his visitor. "Remember how I have behaved to yourself; remember how
I have behaved to your sister. Can you really forgive me."

Amos made no immediate reply, but, taking out of his pocket a small New
Testament which he had purposely brought with him, read in a clear,
earnest voice the parable of the unmerciful servant, and, when he had
finished it, added, "How could I ever hope for forgiveness from God if I
could not forgive the transgressions of a poor fellow-sinner against
myself? Yes, my poor brother, I do freely forgive you; and oh, let me
have the happiness of seeing you seek forgiveness of Him who has still a
place in his heart and in his kingdom for you."

The poor sufferer struggled in vain to conceal his strong emotion.
Tears, sobs would burst forth. A violent fit of coughing came on, and
for a time Amos feared a fatal result. But at length the sick man
regained composure and a lull from his cough, and then said, with slow
and painful effort, "It is tru