e extinguished, the lad makes a desperate effort
to escape, but a strong hand was laid on his shoulder, and a deep, calm
voice inquired, "What can have urged you to such a crime?" Then calling
loudly, the gentleman, without relinquishing his hold, soon obtained the
help of some farming men, who commenced a search with their lanterns all
about the farm. Of course they found no accomplices, nothing at all but
the handful of half-consumed matches the lad had dropped, and he all
that time stood trembling, and occasionally struggling, beneath the firm
but not rough grasp of the master who held him.

At last the men were told to return to the house, and thither, by a
different path, was George led, till they entered a small,
poorly-furnished room. The walls were covered with books, as the bright
flame of the fire revealed to the anxious gaze of the little culprit.
The clergyman lit a lamp, and surveyed his prisoner attentively. The
lad's eyes were fixed on the ground, while Mr. Leyton's wandered from
his pale, pinched features to his scanty, ragged attire, through the
tatters of which he could discern the thin limbs quivering from cold or
fear; and when at last impelled by curiosity at the long silence, George
looked up, there was something so sadly compassionate in the stranger's
gentle look, that the boy could scarcely believe that he was really the
man whose evidence had mainly contributed to transport his father. At
the trial he had been unable to see his face, and nothing so kind had
ever gazed upon him. His proud bad feelings were already melting.

"You look half-starved," said Mr. Leyton; "draw nearer to the fire, you
can sit down on that stool while I question you; and mind you answer me
the truth. I am not a magistrate, but of course can easily hand you over
to justice if you will not allow me to benefit you in my own way."

George still stood twisting his ragged cap in his trembling fingers, and
with so much emotion depicted on his face, that the good clergyman
resumed, in still more soothing accents: "I have no wish to do you any
thing but good, my poor boy; look up at me, and see if you can not trust
me: you need not be thus frightened. I; only desire to hear the tale of
misery your appearance indicates, to relieve it, if I can."

Here the young culprit's heart smote him. Was this the man whose house
he had tried to burn? On whom he had wished to bring ruin and perhaps
death? Was it a snare spread for him to lea