Mr. Higgs shook his head. "He sort of--suggested that--that you had been
a little bit wild before you came to us," he murmured apologetically.

"A--little--bit--wild?" repeated Brother Burge, in horrified accents.
"ME? a little bit wild?"

"No doubt he exaggerated a little," said the jeweller hurriedly. "Being
such a good man himself, no doubt things would seem wild to him that
wouldn't to us--to me, I mean."

"A little bit wild," said his visitor again. "Sam Burge, the Converted
Burglar, a little bit wild. Well, well!"

"Converted what?" shouted the jeweller, half-rising from his chair.

"Burglar," said the other shortly. "Why, I should think I know more
about the inside o' gaols than anybody in England; I've pretty near
killed three policemen, besides breaking a gent's leg and throwing a
footman out of window, and then Brother Clark goes and says I've been a
little bit wild. I wonder what he would 'ave?"

"But you--you've quite reformed now?" said the jeweller, resuming his
seat and making a great effort to hide his consternation.

"I 'ope so," said Mr. Burge, with alarming humility; "but it's an
uncertain world, and far be it from me to boast. That's why I've come
here."

Mr. Higgs, only half-comprehending, sat back gasping.

"If I can stand this," pursued Brother Burge, gesticulating wildly in the
direction of the shop, "if I can stand being here with all these 'ere
pretty little things to be 'ad for the trouble of picking of 'em up, I
can stand anything. Tempt me, I says to Brother Clark. Put me in the
way o' temptation, I says. Let me see whether the Evil One or me is the
strongest; let me 'ave a good old up and down with the Powers o'
Darkness, and see who wins."

Mr. Higgs, gripping the edge of the table with both hands, gazed at this
new Michael in speechless consternation.

"I think I see his face now," said Brother Burge, with tender enthusiasm.
"All in a glow it was, and he patted me on the shoulder and says, 'I'll
send you on a week's mission to Duncombe,' he says, and 'you shall stop
with Brother Higgs who 'as a shop full o' cunning wrought vanities in
silver and gold.'"

"But suppose," said the jeweller, finding his voice by a great effort,
"suppose victory is not given unto you."

"It won't make any difference," replied his visitor. "Brother Clark
promised that it shouldn't. 'If you fall, Brother,' he says, 'we'll help
you up again. When you are tired of sin come back to us--t