, and a billiard saloon, but these luxuries were not gratuitous; poor
Freckle could not even pay his one sou per diem to cook his rations, so
that the Prisoners' Relief Association had to make him a present of it.
He spent his time between his bare, cheerless bedroom and the public
hall. There were many Americans in the place; but none of them were
friendly with him when he was found to have no cash. Yet he heard them
speak together of their countrymen who had lain in the same jail years
before. Yonder was the room of Horace Greeley, incarcerated for a debt
which was not his own; here the blood-stains of the Pennsylvania youth
who looked out of the window, heedless of warning, and was shot dead by
the guard; there the ancient chair, in which Hallidore, the Creole, sat
so often, possessor of a million francs, but too obstinate to pay his
tailor's bill and go free. While Freckle thought of these, it was
suggested to him that he was a very wicked man. The tuitions of his
patriarchal father came to mind; he was seen on his knees, to the
infinite amusement of the other debtors, who were, however, quite too
polite to laugh in his face, and he no longer staked his ration of wine
at cards, whereby he had commonly lost it, but held long conversations
with an ardent old priest who visited the jail. The priest gave Freckle
_breviaries_ and catechisms, and told him that there was no peace of
mind outside of the apostolic fold.

So Freckle diligently embraced the ancient Romish faith, renounced the
tenets of his plain old sire as false and heretical, and earnestly
prepared himself to enter the priesthood.

In this frame of mind he was found by Mr. Simp, who had unexpectedly
returned to Paris, and, finding himself again prosperous, came to
release Freckle from the toils of Clichy.

The latter waved him away. "I wish to know none of you," he said. "I
shall serve out this term, and never again speak to an American abroad."

He was firm, and achieved his purpose. Enthusiasm often answers for
brains, and Freckle's religious zeal made him a changed man. He entered
a Jesuits' school after his discharge, and in another fashion became as
stern, severe, and self-denying as had been his father. He sometimes saw
his old comrade, Simp, driving down the Champs Elysees as Freckle came
from church in Paris, but the gallant did not recognize the young priest
in his dark gown and hose, and wide-rimmed hat.

They followed their several directions,