. He has had a drame, he
says, in which his son James that was in Lady Gourlay's service has
appeared to him, and threatens that unless he renders her justice, he
has but a poor chance in the other world."

"That is not at all unnatural," said the stranger; "the man, though
utterly without religion, was nevertheless both hesitating and timid;
precisely the character to do a just act from a wrong motive."

"Be that as it may," continued the priest, "I have a message from him to
you."

"To me!" replied the other. "I am much obliged to him, but it is now
too late. We have ascertained where Lady Gourlay's son is, without any
assistance from him; and in the course of this very day we shall furnish
ourselves with proper authority for claiming and producing him."

"I am delighted to hear it," said the priest. "God be praised that the
heart of that charitable and Christian woman will be relieved at last,
and made happy; but still I say, see old Anthony. He is as deep as a
draw-well, and as close as an oyster. See him, sir. Take my advice, now
that the drame has frightened him, and call upon the old sinner. He may
serve you in more ways than you know."

"Well, as you advise me to do so, I shall; but I do not relish the old
fellow at all."

"Nobody does, nor ever did. He and all his family lived as if every one
of them carried a little world of their own within them. Maybe they do;
and God forgive me for saying it, but I don't think if its secrets were
known, that it would be found a very pleasant world. May the Lord change
them, and turn their hearts!"

After some further chat, the priest took his departure, but promised to
see his friend from time to time, before he should leave town.

The stranger felt that the priest's advice to see old Corbet again was
a good one. The interview could do no harm, and might be productive
of some good, provided he could be prevailed on to speak out. He
accordingly directed his steps once more to Constitution Hill, where he
found the old man at his usual post behind the counter.

"Well, Corbet," said he, "alive still?"

"Alive still, sir," he replied; "but can't be so always; the best of us
must go."

"Very true, Corbet, if we could think of it as we ought; but, somehow,
it happens that most people live in this world as if they were never to
die."

"That's too true, sir--unfortunately too true, God help us!"

"Corbet," proceeded the stranger, "nothing can convince me that you
do