"Tell William he shall have them." His whole manner had changed. There was something he could do, and he went at once for the fruit and water. Fortunately, he knew the provost of this prison and had done him some favors, so he had no hesitation in asking him to see that the small comforts were given to William Watson. "He was a member of my class meeting, Provost," said Bradley; "a Methodist leader must love his brother in Christ." Here Bradley's voice failed him and the Provost added, "I knew him too--he used to live in good style in Queen Street. I will see that he gets the fruit and water." "And if you need anything for yourself in the way of saddlery, Provost, I will be glad to serve you." "I was thinking of a new riding whip." "I will bring you the best I have. One good turn deserves another." Then, after a little further conversation he turned homeward, and men who met him on the way wondered what was the matter with John Bradley. For, without cessation, as he walked, he went over and over the same three words, _"Christ forgive me!"_ And no one could smile at the monotonous iteration; the man was in too dead earnest; his face was too remorseful, his voice too tragic. The next morning he was very early in Superintendent Ludlow's office. The great man of the Court of Police had not arrived, but Bradley waited until he came. "You are an early visitor, Mr. Bradley," he said pleasantly. "I have a favor to ask, Judge." "Come in here then. What is it? You are no place or plunder hunter." "Judge, a month ago you asked me to make you a saddle." "And you would not do it. I remember." "I could not--at least I thought I could not; now, if you will let me, I will make you the fittest saddle possible--it shall be my own work, every stitch of it." "How much money do you want for such a saddle, Bradley?" "I want no money at all. I want a very small favor from you." "Nothing for the rebels, I hope. I cannot grant any favor in that direction." "I want nothing for the rebels; I want one hour every Sunday afternoon in the College prison with my class members." "Oh, I don't know, Bradley----" "Yes, you know, Judge. You know, if I give you my promise, I will keep every letter of it." "What is your promise?" "I want only to pray with my brothers or to walk awhile with them as they go through the Valley of the Shadow. I promise you that no word of war, or defeat or victory; that no breath of any political opinion shall pass my lips. Nor will I listen to any such." "Bradley, I don't think I can grant you this request. It would not be right."