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"Confound the rascal!" said Frere, growing crimson. "'Remember me most affectionately to Sarah and little William, and all friends who yet cherish the recollection of me, and bid them take warning by my fate, and keep from evil courses. A good conscience is better than gold, and no amount can compensate for the misery incident to a return to crime. Whether I shall ever see you again, dear father, is more than uncertain; for my doom is life, unless the Government alter their plans concerning me, and allow me an opportunity to earn my freedom by hard work. "'The blessing of God rest with you, my dear father, and that you may be washed white in the blood of the Lamb is the prayer of your "'Unfortunate Son,' "John Rex" 'P.S.---Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be whiter than snow.'" "Is that all?" said Frere. "That is all, sir, and a very touching letter it is." "So it is," said Frere. "Now let me have it a moment, Mr. Meekin." He took the paper, and referring to the numbers of the texts which he had written in his pocket-book, began to knit his brows over Mr. John Rex's impious and hypocritical production. "I thought so," he said, at length. "Those texts were never written for nothing. It's an old trick, but cleverly done." "What do you mean?" said Meekin. "Mean!" cries Frere, with a smile at his own acuteness. "This precious composition contains a very gratifying piece of intelligence for Mr. Blicks, whoever he is. Some receiver, I've no doubt. Look here, Mr. Meekin. Take the letter and this pencil, and begin at the first text. The 102nd Psalm, from the 4th verse to the 12th inclusive, doesn't he say? Very good; that's nine verses, isn't it? Well, now, underscore nine consecutive words from the second word immediately following the next text quoted, 'I have hope,' etc. Have you got it?" "Yes," says Meekin, astonished, while all heads bent over the table. "Well, now, his text is the eighteenth verse of the thirty-fifth Psalm, isn't it? Count eighteen words on, then underscore five consecutive ones. You've done that?" "A moment--sixteen--seventeen--eighteen, 'authorities'." "Count and score in the same way until you come to the word 'Texts' somewhere. Vickers, I'll trouble you for the claret." "Yes," said Meekin, after a pause. "Here it is--'the texts of Scripture quoted by our chaplain'. But surely Mr. Frere--" "Hold on a bit now," cries Frere. "What's the next quotation?--John iii.
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