"Anne," said he, "you have done a base and cowardly deed, and you will one day see it so, however you may regard it at present. I know not what has prompted you, and I desire not to judge you. Only remember this, when your day of remorse and repentance comes—as come it will—remember, there was forgiveness even for them who crucified our dear Lord, and the same forgiveness will be granted to you if you truly repent, and accept the offer of mercy. For my own part, I freely pardon you, and if I do not do so wholly, now, I believe the grace will be given me. But I warn you, that you are placing yourself in imminent danger of eternal perdition, by your present resisting of the Spirit and of your own conscience. 'He who denieth me before men, him will I deny before the angels of God,' says our Lord Himself. He now holds out His pitiful arms even to you, but there may come a day when He will hold them out no more—when you may long to confess what you now deny, and it may be forever too late." Anne still stood silent, but her face showed the storm within. "But I must not throw away my life," said Jack hastily. "It may be that I can yet escape." "There is no chance. The house has been watched ever since your return," said Anne, in a hoarse voice. "You will but make matters worse." "Be it so, then. I will bide the storm which you have brought upon me," said Jack. "I pray you to leave me, sister. I have need of time and solitude to collect my thoughts and prepare for that which is coming." Without a word Anne turned and left the room, and Jack fastened the door. Then, drawing his Bible from its hiding-place and trimming his lamp, he knelt down and read, again and again, the tenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel. ¹ He passed several hours in reading and prayer, and then, as the gray morning began to creep in, he rose and dressed himself as for a festival, and when it was fully day, he went down to his father's room, to help him dress, as usual. He was met at the door by Simon, with a face full of terror and dismay. ¹ I request every reader of these pages to do the same. "Oh, Master Jack, Master Jack! What can have happened? The constable with his men are at the door and demand entrance, and Father—I cannot think of his name—" "Father Barnaby," said Jack gently. "Go down, Simon, and say I will be with them directly. I will but see my father." "What means all this disturbance?" asked Master Lucas, opening his door. "Who are those men without?" "Let me come in, dear father, and I will tell you all," said Jack. "Go down, Simon. Dear Cicely, do but be quiet, and dress yourself." Jack entered his father's room, and, shutting the door, told him what had happened. "Then it is too late!" exclaimed Master Lucas, wringing his hands in anguish. "My son, my dear son! Fool that I was! Why did I not insist on your leaving me last night?"