re than probable that Mr. Burge would decline to allow such a
proceeding. With a growing sense of his peril he resolved to try
flattery.

"It was a great thing for the Brethren to secure a man like you," he
said.

"I never thought they'd ha' done it," said Mr. Burge frankly. "I've 'ad
all sorts trying to convert me; crying over me and praying over me. I
remember the first dear good man that called me a lorst lamb. He didn't
say anything else for a month."

"So upset," hazarded the jeweller.

"I broke his jor, pore feller," said Brother Burge, a sad but withal
indulgent smile lighting up his face at the vagaries of his former
career. "What time do you go to bed, Brother?"

"Any time," said the other reluctantly. "I suppose you are tired with
your journey?"

Mr. Burge assented, and rising from his chair yawned loudly and stretched
himself. In the small room with his huge arms raised he looked colossal.

"I suppose," said the jeweller, still seeking to re-assure himself, "I
suppose dear Brother Clark felt pretty certain of you, else he wouldn't
have sent you here?"

"Brother Clark said 'What is a jeweller's shop compared with a 'uman
soul, a priceless 'uman soul?'" replied Mr. Burge. "What is a few
gew-gaws to decorate them that perish, and make them vain, when you come
to consider the opportunity of such a trial, and the good it'll do and
the draw it'll be--if I do win--and testify to the congregation to that
effect? Why, there's sermons for a lifetime in it."

"So there is," said the jeweller, trying to look cheerful. "You've got a
good face, Brother Burge, and you'll do a lot of good by your preaching.
There is honesty written in every feature."

Mr. Burge turned and surveyed himself in the small pier-glass. "Yes," he
said, somewhat discontentedly, "I don't look enough like a burglar to
suit some of 'em."

"Some people are hard to please," said the other warmly.

Mr. Burge started and eyed him thoughtfully, and then as Mr. Higgs after
some hesitation walked into the shop to turn the gas out, stood in the
doorway watching him. A smothered sigh as he glanced round the shop bore
witness to the state of his feelings.

The jeweller hesitated again in the parlour, and then handing Brother
Burge his candle turned out the gas, and led the way slowly upstairs to
the room which had been prepared for the honoured visitor. He shook
hands at the door and bade him an effusive good-night, his voice
trembl