"And I did, just as you saw it on the paper which I left behind; the first line, 'Tom Ossington's Ghost'--he always made me write that; it was the only allusion he ever made to there being anything unusual about his presence there; and the second line, 'right--straight across--three--four--up.' When I'd written it he'd say: "'Charlie, mind you take the greatest care of that; don't let it go out of your possession for a moment. It's the guide to that fortune of yours.' "Then he'd go. And the moment he had gone the warder would come bursting in, and catch me with the pencil, and the Bible, or whatever it was, in my hand, with the writing on the flyleaf. And he'd begin to gird at me. "'So you're at it again, are you? And you've got a pencil, have you? and been writing in your Bible? You're a pretty sort, upon my word you are. I tell you what it is, my lad, you'll get yourself into serious trouble before you've done.' "And he'd take the pencil away with him, and the Bible, and the writing; and I'd be reported again, and punished with the utmost severity which was within the compass of the Governor's power." Ballingall stopped again. A convulsive fit of trembling seemed to go all over him. "Towards the end, the vision took another form. Tom would bring me to the house--only I think, not to this room, but to another--and he would do something--he would do something. I saw quite clearly what it was he did, and understood it well, but, so soon as I was out of the house, the recollection of what he had done became blurred as by a mist. I could not remember at all. I'd wake in my cell in an agony to think that all that Tom had shown me should have slipped my memory. In the morning he'd come and ask: "'Charlie, you remember what we did last night?' "'No, Tom, I don't. I've tried to think, but I can't. It's all forgotten.' "He'd laugh--his laugh seeming to mock me more than ever. "'Never mind, Charlie, I'll tell you all about it. You write down what I say.' "And I wrote it down--the last line which was on the scrap of paper. Though I never knew what it meant--never! never! I've searched my brains many times to think; and been punished for writing it again and again. "At last I was released. At last--my God, at last!" His whole frame quivered. He drew himself upright, as if endeavouring to bear himself as became a man. "I was treated, when going out, according to my deserts. I had earned no favour, and I received none. The Governor reprimanded me, by way of a God-speed; told me that my conduct, while in prison, had been very bad, and warned me that it would go ill with me if I returned. I went out in the rags in which I had entered, without a penny in my pocket--hungry at the moment of release, I have not tasted bite or sup from the time that I came out of gaol until tonight.