Then his mother’s face—he hardly dared to think of that. What would not she suffer? unknowing, indeed, what her boy had to endure; but fearing and conjecturing the worst, so far as she had knowledge to picture that worst. Would any picturings of hers approach the reality? A wild craving for Denham had him next in its grasp. If Denham had but been arrested too—had but come with him! But that unworthy wish lasted not ten seconds. Upon it came a nobler rush of gladness that Denham was _not_ here. The worn face came up before Roy, as he had seen it but a few days sooner; and below his breath he sobbed in an ecstasy of thankfulness, that at least Denham would be in comparative comfort, that at least he had not to be in this dungeon. “Think how your mother will be praying for you.” Was that Denham speaking? Roy seemed to hear the words, not only with his mind, but with his bodily ears. He sat up and looked round upon the slumbering throng—looked with smarting eyes into the gloom. He gazed into the blackness overhead, where a stone roof shut him pitilessly in. Was his mother praying for him then?—and his father?—and Denham? Would God hear their prayers? Denham’s voice again, deep and quiet, seemed to breathe around him, “Remember! God is overall!” How long ago was it that he had said those words? Not lately. Was it—when he was ordered off to Valenciennes? God over all? Ay, even here, even in this dungeon! Roy dropped down again, face foremost; and through heaving sobs, not one of which was allowed to make itself heard, he joined his prayers to those of his mother. (_To be continued._) FOOTNOTES: [1] Fact. [2] In those days the press-gang was still in force. [Illustration: SUCCESS AND LONG LIFE TO THE “G. O. P.” Success and long life to the “G. O. P.” As she starts on her voyage again; Let us speed her forth with a three times three O’er a sunny and tranquil main. A thousand times has our gallant ship Her course sped over the seas; Through wintry gales sped the silver sails, Or haply the summer breeze. Then success and long life to the “G. O. P.” ’Tis with hands all round, and across the sea, That we speed her forth with our three times three! A thousand times have her sails been set O’er a cargo of golden grain; A thousand times may she bear it yet, And a thousand to that again! For her freight has ever more precious grown, Each time we have watched her start, With the varied cheer that has grown so dear To many a home and heart. Then success and long life to the “G. O. P.” ’Tis with hands all round, and across the sea, That we speed her forth with our three times three!