"The streets were much crowded on his return, for there were preparations for a grand illumination. My father did not loiter on his way, but his attention was naturally attracted by the splendid stars and wreaths, which were beginning to be lighted up as he passed. As he entered his master's shop, he put his hand into his pocket, and his surprise and distress may be readily imagined, when he found it entirely empty. His first impulse was to retrace his steps, which he did, though with scarcely the faintest hope of success; glancing vainly down on every side, asking bystanders the question which always received the same discouraging answer. All the glories of the illumination were lost upon him; he could think of nothing but his lost bank-notes." "Weary and sad, he returned to his home, where he had to wait for an hour—a most painful hour it was—till his master returned from seeing the illumination. The confession of his loss was frankly made, with every expression of heartfelt regret; but the anger of the haberdasher was beyond all bounds, and he treated my unhappy father as though the money had not been lost but stolen by him. Whether the master had indulged too freely in drink that night, I know not, but I think it more than probable; he abused my father in violent terms, dismissed him from his service, refused to give him even a character, and, for his own convenience alone, allowed him to remain beneath his roof until he could procure some one to supply his place." "My father retired to his little room with an almost breaking heart. I have often heard him say that this was the bitterest moment of his life. To lose his place was misfortune enough; but his character—that which was dearer than life! He could scarcely restrain his burning tears! But he laid his troubles before his God; he remembered that the Almighty afflicts not in vain, that the Lord would yet make his innocence clear before all, if not in this world, yet in the kingdom which is to come." "As he was rising from his knees, Sands entered the room, having heard of the misfortune of his companion. Sands was a kind-hearted fellow, and really liked my father, and tried in his rough way to comfort him. "'I am heartily sorry that you are going,' he said, in conclusion; 'I assure you, Viner, that I would do anything for you.'" "'Then you will not refuse this little remembrance from a friend,' said my father, placing in his hand one of the books in gold and blue, from which he had just himself been drawing counsel and comfort. 'For my sake, you will read this little work through, and God bless you, Sands, and reward you for the kindness which you have shown to a friend in disgrace!'" "And did Sands read it?" inquired Walter.