now!"

"And I am almost happy in your happiness," responded his friend, his
face lighted up by an altogether new and beautiful smile.

"Sit down, then," said David, giving him a chair and standing opposite
to him, "and I will tell you my story."

Words cannot describe the emotion, nay the passion, with which he poured
that tragic narrative into the ears of his eager and sympathetic
listener.

Never was a story told to a more attentive and appreciative auditor.
There must have been some buried sorrow in that heart which had rendered
it sensitive to the griefs of others. Hours were consumed by this
narrative and by the questions which had to be asked and answered, and
it was long after midnight when David found time to say, "And now shall
I tell you my plans for the future?"

"Yes, if you will," said Mantel.

"Well, I have rented a sunny room in a lodging house in a quiet street,
and to-morrow, if you are willing, you shall go and lead him to it. I
must lean upon you, Mantel; I dare not make myself known to him. He
would never accept my aid if he knew by whom it was bestowed, for he is
proud and revengeful and would give himself no rest night or day until
he had my life, if he knew I was within reach. I do not fear him; but
what good could come of his wreaking vengeance on me, richly as I
deserve it? It would only make his destiny more dark and dreadful, and
defeat the one chance I have of making an atonement. You do not think I
ought to make myself known, do you?"

"I do not. I think with you that an atonement is the most perfect
satisfaction of justice."

"Thank you, thank you, my dear friend. You do not know how glad I am to
have you think I am doing right. You will go to him to-morrow, then, and
you will tell him that some one who has seen him on the streets has
taken compassion on him. You will do this, will you not?"

"Nothing could give me greater pleasure. I half feel as if I had
participated with you in the wrong done to the old man, and that I shall
be blessed with you in trying to make it right."

"That is good in you, Mantel. How much nobility lies buried in every
human heart! It may be that even such men as you and I are capable of
some sort of rescue and redemption. I am going to spend my best strength
in working for this poor old blind beggar whom I have wronged. I mean to
toil for him like a galley slave, and mark me, Mantel, it is going to be
honest toil!"

"Honest, did you say?" asked Mante