Mr. Akenside was inexpressibly shocked to discover how he had been deceived by the servant in whom he had placed entire confidence. He spoke seriously to the aged sinner, who had revealed this hidden evil of his past, trying hard to bring him to a state of true penitence. But who could say if there were genuine feeling in the few words of contrition the sufferer uttered ere he passed away, or whether they were merely the expression of a craven fear? There may be hope, but there is no bright light at eventide about the death-bed of one whose life has been spent in the service of sin. On the following day, Nathaniel Savage was committed to prison to await his trial, and Reuben's innocence of the crime imputed to him was proclaimed in the hearing of every one at the works. For Savage's accomplice had kept back nothing, but had explained how Savage, whilst Reuben lay senseless in the yard, had, in order to remove suspicion from themselves, stealthily entered the gatehouse, and creeping noiselessly up the stairs, contrived to conceal some of the stolen goods under Reuben's bed, and left a key lying about as further evidence of his guilt. Every one appeared glad to hear the news about Reuben, and no one, except Mr. Akenside, seemed astounded by the fact of Savage's villainy, for by many a wrong unjust act, the foreman had revealed to those under his orders what kind of man he was. Reuben did not at once return to his place at the works. Mr. Akenside was grieved to find how much the lad had suffered. His pale, pinched face told of his loss of strength. And Mr. Akenside kindly insisted on his accepting a sum of money, which Reuben thought a far more munificent compensation than he had any right to expect, and going home for a long holiday ere he began work again. [Illustration] CHAPTER X. A SON THAT CAUSETH SHAME. REUBEN felt like a new creature when he started for Ashworth, and, leaving the smoky town behind, saw again the green fields and the clear blue sky. The trees were still bare, but here and there were tokens of spring's approach, the yellow catkins drooping from the willows, a touch of vivid green amidst the brown twigs, a shy primrose or two-peeping from beneath a hedge. But if spring did not yet possess the outer world, it was full springtide in the heart of Reuben Roy. Not till now that it was lifted from his spirit had he fully realized what a crushing burden was the sense of unmerited disgrace. It was delightful to feel that he was free from it at last, that his character was cleared from every imputation, and that no one now could point to him in scorn as one who should be in prison if he had his deserts.