ed farther and
farther therein. At last he committed a crime against the government. In
fear of punishment he fled from Ephesus, and joined a company of robbers
and bandits in the wild ravines of the mountains. Though young in years,
he was so cunning and bold in crime that he became the leader of the
band. Inspired by his daring spirit they were ready for deeds of
violence that made them the terror of the whole region.

On John's return from his exile in Patmos to Ephesus, he longed to know
of the welfare of the young disciple, who had been to him as an adopted
son, ever present to his mind and heart in his lonely island. The
Bishop, with downcast eyes, sorrow and shame, declared, "He is dead."
"How?" asked John, "and by what death?" "He is dead to God," said the
Bishop. "He has turned out wicked and abandoned, and at last a robber."

John rent his garments as a sign of distress. Weeping he cried with a
loud lamentation, "Alas! alas! to what a guardian have I trusted our
brother!" The tender, faithful heart of the aged Apostle yearned for the
young man. He was ready to say, "How can I give thee up!" He knew the
mercy of God, and the power of love, human and divine; and determined
that the robber-chieftain should know it too.

Immediately he procured a horse and guide, and rode toward the
stronghold of the robbers. It was in a wild mountainous ravine, with
rushing torrents and rugged rocks overgrown with brushwood and luxuriant
herbage. It was a place of grandeur, and yet of gloom--a fitting haunt
for the robber-band. Few travelers passed that way, and that hurriedly
and in terror.

At last the Apostle and his guide heard from behind the rocks the hoarse
shouts of revelry. But he heeded them not, so intent was he on his
errand. He was seeking the prodigal, his adopted son--who was not
seeking the loving father. He drew the reins of his horse, while he
told his guide that their journey was ended, and prayed for themselves
and for him whom they sought. His nearness was discovered by one of the
band, who led him to the rest, and bound his guide. There was a great
contrast between the old man with his snowy locks and beard, in his
humble garb; and the younger, the wild looking bandit with his streaming
hair and loose white kilt; between the defenceless captive, and his
captors armed with Roman swords, long lances, and bows and arrows before
which he seemed perfectly powerless.

As he looked upon their hardened features