emotion to which his hearer had no key.

'I thought you'd feel so. It is a splendid thing to save life at the
risk of one's own, as you did, and nearly lose it,' began Mrs Jo,
wishing he had gone on with that impulsive speech which was so like his
old manner.

'"He that loseth his life shall gain it",' muttered Dan, staring at the
cheerful fire which lighted the room, and shone on his thin face with a
ruddy glow.

Mrs Jo was so startled at hearing such words from his lips that she
exclaimed joyfully:

'Then you did read the little book I gave you, and kept your promise?'

'I read it a good deal after a while. I don't know much yet, but I'm
ready to learn; and that's something.'

'It's everything. Oh, my dear, tell me about it! I know something lies
heavy on your heart; let me help you bear it, and so make the burden
lighter.'

'I know it would; I want to tell; but some things even you couldn't
forgive; and if you let go of me, I'm afraid I can't keep afloat.'

'Mothers can forgive anything! Tell me all, and be sure that I will
never let you go, though the whole world should turn from you.'

Mrs Jo took one of the big wasted hands in both of hers and held it
fast, waiting silently till that sustaining touch warmed poor Dan's
heart, and gave him courage to speak. Sitting in his old attitude, with
his head in his hands, he slowly told it all, never once looking up till
the last words left his lips.

'Now you know; can you forgive a murderer, and keep a jail-bird in your
house?'

Her only answer was to put her arms about him, and lay the shorn head on
her breast, with eyes so full of tears they could but dimly see the hope
and fear that made his own so tragical.

That was better than any words; and poor Dan clung to her in speechless
gratitude, feeling the blessedness of mother love--that divine gift
which comforts, purifies, and strengthens all who seek it. Two or three
great, bitter drops were hidden in the little woollen shawl where Dan's
cheek rested, and no one ever knew how soft and comfortable it felt to
him after the hard pillows he had known so long. Suffering of both mind
and body had broken will and pride, and the lifted burden brought such a
sense of relief that he paused a moment to enjoy it in dumb delight.

'My poor boy, how you have suffered all this year, when we thought you
free as air! Why didn't you tell us, Dan, and let us help you? Did you
doubt your friends?' asked Mrs Jo, forgetting a