dark till
you were fast asleep again. Then I drew out the bag very carefully
from behind your head, and changed it for your own bag, having first
filled your own bag with the leaden nuggets and one or two little bits
of gold at the top, so that you had your own bag when you woke in the
morning, but I had your gold in the other bag. There, you know all
now, you can understand all the rest. I sold your nuggets--I spent
part of the money in drink--I played again--I've lost all--I shall
never be able to repay you--I dare not look you in the face--I dare
not look my father and mother in the face--I dare not look--it's no
matter. You are an honest fellow, Jacob, and will get on, spite of my
villainy. If you ever marry and have children, make them total
abstainers, if you would keep them safe in body and soul. As for
myself, I cannot mend--I'm past it--I've been cheating myself with the
belief that I meant to mend, but I never did. I see it now. There,
Jacob, I don't ask you to forgive me, but I do ask one thing--grant it
me for the love you once had to me--it is this: wait a month, I shall
be out of the way by that time, and then post the enclosed letter to
my poor mother. I have told her how I have robbed you. My father
will repay you. Tell him where he can find you. I shall soon be out
of everybody's reach. And now all I have got to ask you is just to
wipe me out of your thoughts altogether, and to forget that there ever
was such a person as your guilty, miserable, degraded master."

"Oh, Mr Poole," said his landlady, compassionately, when he had begun
to recover from the first vehemence of his grief, "I fear there's
something dreadfully wrong."

Jacob shook his head.

"All lost--all ruined," he replied. Yet even now his heart yearned
towards his miserable master. He would not expose him to Mrs Jones;
she at least should know nothing of his own loss.

"Mrs Jones," he said, holding out his hand, "I must say good-bye. I
fear my poor master's got into very bad hands. I don't rightly know
what's become of him; but where there's life there's hope, and I trust
he isn't past that. If you and I meet again, may it be a happier
meeting. Be so good as to hand me my--my--bag I left in your charge,"
he added, with quivering voice.

"I'm so sorry," said the good woman, when she had fetched the bag. "I
wish I could do anything to comfort you. I'm sure I'm truly sorry fo