l companions. Oh! my brother! my brother!"

"He'll be home by night-time, Massar Gulian, in my 'pinion. I'se jus
sorry I told you, sah, since you take on so, but it just slipped out o'
me like, an' I couldn't help it."

Guly drew a chair near one of the windows, and though he could see
neither sky above or brightness below, he gazed out upon the brick walls
before him, and his thoughts flew backward to the past. From that hour
of reflection Guly rose up wiser and older. He felt how much depended on
himself, and decided that henceforth his watchful eye should ever be
upon the brother, who, though so much older than himself, required so
much of tender counsel and care.

The sun was down when he again approached the table where Jeff still
sat, turning over the leaves of the "Big Book."

"Massar Gulian, you look in your eyes as though you was gwine to pray.
May I hear you 'fore I go?"

Guly bowed, and knelt beside his dusky friend; and as he prayed, the
great white tears rolled over Jeff's cheeks, and fell down on the box by
which he was kneeling.

The prayer was ended and Jeff rose to go.

"Good night, Jeff," said Guly, holding out his hand.

"Good night, young Massar; God forever bress your heart."

Left alone, Guly sat down to patiently await the termination of what he
could not possibly avert; but the loneliness was so oppressive, the
silence and darkness lay like such a weight upon his troubled heart,
that he determined to descend to Wilkins' room, and if he were there to
remain with him.

Having no light in his chamber, he opened the door, and slowly groped
his way down the winding stairs. When he had nearly reached the foot he
fancied he heard voices, and, surprised at such a sound coming from the
direction of the head-clerk's room, he paused to listen; but the step on
which he stood creaked loudly, and the voices ceased.

Going cautiously on in the darkness, he reached the big desk, and
further back saw a stream of light glimmering through the crevice of
Wilkins' door. He evidently was at home, but unless his ears had very
much deceived him, Guly felt certain he was not alone.

Not wishing to play the spy, the boy went forward, and was about to
knock, when through the crevice of the door his eye fell upon a scene
which again arrested his attention, and held him speechless.

Wilkins was seated at a low table, writing, apparently answering a
letter, which lay open before him, written in a peculiarly bea