“I do not know, sir.” “You do not know?” “I do not know.” “You are _sure_ you do not know?” He tried hard to keep his eyes on mine, but the strain was too great; his chin sunk slowly toward his breast and he was silent; he stood there nervously fumbling with a button, an object to command one’s pity, in spite of his base acts. Presently I broke the stillness with the question,— “Who are the ‘Holy Alliance’?” His body shook visibly, and he made a slight random gesture with his hands, which to me was like the appeal of a despairing creature for compassion. But he made no sound. He continued to stand with his face bent toward the ground. As we sat gazing at him, waiting for him to speak, we saw the big tears begin to roll down his cheeks. But he remained silent. After a little, I said,— “You must answer me, my boy, and you must tell me the truth. Who are the Holy Alliance?” He wept on in silence. Presently I said, somewhat sharply,— “Answer the question!” He struggled to get command of his voice; and then, looking up appealingly, forced the words out between his sobs,— “Oh, have pity on me, sir! I cannot answer it, for I do not know.” “What!” “Indeed, sir, I am telling the truth. I never have heard of the Holy Alliance till this moment. On my honor, sir, this is so.” “Good heavens! Look at this second letter of yours; there, do you see those words, ‘_Holy Alliance_?’ What do you say now?” He gazed up into my face with the hurt look of one upon whom a great wrong had been wrought, then said, feelingly,— “This is some cruel joke, sir; and how could they play it upon me, who have tried all I could to do right, and have never done harm to anybody? Some one has counterfeited my hand; I never wrote a line of this; I have never seen this letter before!” “Oh, you unspeakable liar! Here, what do you say to _this_?”—and I snatched the sympathetic ink letter from my pocket and thrust it before his eyes. His face turned white!—as white as a dead person’s. He wavered slightly in his tracks, and put his hand against the wall to steady himself. After a moment he asked, in so faint a voice that it was hardly audible,— “Have you-read it?” Our faces must have answered the truth before my lips could get out a false “yes,” for I distinctly saw the courage come back into that boy’s eyes. I waited for him to say something, but he kept silent. So at last I said,— “Well, what have you to say as to the revelations in this letter?” He answered, with perfect composure,— “Nothing, except that they are entirely harmless and innocent; they can hurt nobody.” I was in something of a corner now, as I couldn’t disprove his assertion. I did not know exactly how to proceed. However, an idea came to my relief, and I said,— “You are sure you know nothing about the Master and the Holy Alliance, and did not write the letter which you say is a forgery?” “Yes, sir—sure.”