mile 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
trembling despite himself as he expressed a hope that Mr. Burge would
sleep well. He added casually that he himself was a very light sleeper.

To-night sleep of any kind was impossible. He had given up the front
room to his guest, and his own window looked out on an over-grown garden.
He sat trying to read, with his ears alert for the slightest sound.
Brother Burge seemed to be a long time undressing. For half an hour
after he had retired he could hear him moving restlessly about his room.

Twelve o'clock struck from the tower of the parish church, and was
followed almost directly b