At this moment a tap was heard at the vestry door, and it opened, revealing two strange figures with scared, interrogating faces on the top--the burly form of Captain Smith, and the almost as bulky, though differently arranged, form of Mr. Potts. "Don't'ee be too hard on the young gentleman, sir," said Mr. Potts, in the soothing tone of one who would patch up a family quarrel. "He won't do it again, I'll go bail. You don't know, sir, what a good sort he is. Don't'ee get him into no trouble. He lost his life--all but--a reskewing of my Bessie. He did now. True as the Bible, sir," added Mr. Potts, with conciliatory flattery to the clergyman's profession, whom they both took for the father or uncle of Thomas. "You just let me take him off again, sir," put in Captain Smith, while the face of Mr. Potts, having recovered its usual complexion, looked on approvingly like a comic but benevolent moon. Mr. Fuller had a wise way of never interrupting till he saw in what direction the sense lay. So he let them talk, and the seaman went on: "Everybody knows the sea's the place for curing the likes o' them fine fellows that carries too much sail ashore. They soon learns their reef-points there. Why, parson, sir, he's been but three or four voyages, and I'll take him for an able-bodied seaman to-morrow. He's a right good sort, though he may ha' been a little frolicsome on shore. We was all young once, sir." "Are these men friends of yours, Mr. Worboise?" asked Mr. Fuller. "Indeed they are," answered Thomas. "I think I must have killed myself before now, if it hadn't been for those two." So saying, he shook hands with Mr. Potts, and, turning to the captain, said: "Thank you, thank you, captain, but I am quite safe with this gentleman. I will come and see you to-morrow." "He shall sleep at my house to-night," said Mr. Fuller; "and no harm shall happen to him, I promise you." "Thank you, sir;" and "Good-night, gentlemen," said both, and went through the silent, wide church with a kind of awe that rarely visited either of them. Without further preface than just the words, "Now, I will tell you all about it, sir," Thomas began his story. When he had finished it, having answered the few questions he put to him in its course, Mr. Fuller was satisfied that he did know all about it, and that if ever there was a case in which he ought to give all the help he could, here was one. He did not utter a word of reproof. Thomas's condition of mind was such that it was not only unnecessary, but might have done harm. He had now only to be met with the same simplicity which he had himself shown. The help must match the confession. "Well, we must get you out of this scrape, somehow," he said, heartily. "I don't see how you can, sir." "It rests with yourself chiefly. Another can only help. The feet that walked into the mire must turn and walk out of it again. I don't mean to reproach you--only to encourage you to effort."