Joseph shut himself in the dark hall, and found a seat upon the stairs, filled with vague wonder; for his keen imagination seized upon this event, and his affectionate nature turned lovingly to the old men, whose voices came through the ill-fitting door in indistinct murmurs. It must have been an hour when the door opened, and Joseph saw the Mayor and his father standing just within the room. The light from a tallow candle fell upon them from behind, striking their side faces with singular effect. Both were pale, but the cheek of the Mayor, on which the light lay strongest, glistened with moisture. Could it be that this was the trace of tears?--and, if so, what power had that humble artist, to make a man weep who had not been known to shed tears since his boyhood! The artist too had a look of tender sadness on his face, as if all his deeper feelings had been moved. The two old men--we call them old, but events rather than time had left hoary marks upon them--the two old men held each other by the hand; Joseph arose and drew back, that the Mayor might pass, but when he went by without a word, the boy was seized with a pang of disappointment, and followed him. "Mayor," he said, "please won't you say good-bye to me, I have wanted to see you so much all day?" The Mayor turned his face; the light from a street-lamp shone upon it, as he stood in the lower entrance. Surely there had been tears on that stern face. "Yes," answered Mr. Farnham, looking into those deep earnest eyes, "I will bid you good-bye." "Mr. Farnham," said Joseph, "won't you stay a little?" The Mayor stepped back into the hall, but wavered in his walk, and supported himself by the lad. Joseph could feel that the hands which were laid on his shoulders trembled. "Are you sick?" questioned the lad, with his forehead up lifted in reverential tenderness. "Sick--no! I think it is not sickness, but, but"-- "Have I or father done anything to hurt you, sir?" "Hurt me!--no, no--but Joseph you said once that I had murdered Mr. Chester, did you believe it?" Joseph's head drooped forward. His eyes were suffused with sadness, he could not answer. "Did you think so, Joseph?" repeated the Mayor, in a voice of strange solicitude. "I thought so then, but now I am sure you could not have intended to do it." "No!" answered the Mayor, impressively. "I did not intend it; when you think of me hereafter you will remember this--and remember too, my child, that when a man takes the first step toward an unjust act, he loses a great portion of his power to control the second--great crime grows out of small errors, my boy, remember that, and I charge you, repeat it to my son, when he has need of such warning." "I will repeat it to him, as you wish me to, sir!" "And now farewell." Joseph felt a kiss quiver upon his forehead, like the touch of a spirit that had taken flight. He looked around, the Mayor was gone.