oked at me through their spectacles,
and could not believe that I could possibly be the little Ben who used
to run to the pump for water. I had money in my pocket, and I liked the
old people, who offered me all they could give without hopes of
receiving anything in return, and, as I knew nobody else, I used to live
much with them, and pay them handsomely; I gave the old man some
curiosities and the old woman a teapot, and so on, and I remained with
them till it was time for me to sail again. Now, you see, Jack, among
the old folk in the workhouse was a man who had been at sea; and I often
had long talks with him, and gave him tobacco, which he couldn't afford
to buy,--for they don't allow it in a workhouse, which is a great
hardship, and I have often thought that I should not like to go into a
workhouse because I never could have a bit of tobacco. This man's hair
was as white as snow, much too white for his age, for he was more
decrepit and worn out than, perhaps, he was old. He had come home to
his parish, and, being unable to gain his living, they had sent him to
the workhouse. I can't understand why a place should be called a
workhouse where they do nothing at all. Well, Charley, as they called
him, got very ill, and they thought he would not last long; and, when
the old people were busy, I used to talk a great deal with him. He was
generally very quiet and composed, and said he was comfortable, but that
he knew he was going fast.

"`But,' says he, `here's my comfort;' and he pointed to a Bible that he
had on his knees. `If it had not been for this book,' said he, `I do
think, at times, I should have made away with myself.'

"`Why,' says I, `what have you done? Have you been very wicked?'

"`We are all very wicked,' said he; `but that's not exactly it. I have
been haunted for so many years, that I have been almost driven mad.

"`Why,' said I, `what can you have done that you should have been
haunted? You haven't committed murder, have you?'

"`Well, I don't know what to say,' replied he; `if a man looks on and
don't prevent murder, is it not the same? I haven't long to live, and I
feel as if I should be happier if I made a clean breast of it; for I
have kept the secret a long while, and I think that you, as a sailor,
and knowing what sailors suffer, may have a fellow-feeling; and perhaps
you will tell me (for I'm somewhat uneasy about it) whether you think
that I am so very much to blame in the busine