407

CHAPTER LIL
A BURNING BBASTD.
, at once the thought came into my mind, * I have not sought out
Mr. Brown/
Upon that text I desire to depart from the direct line of my
subject, and make a little excursion. I wish to reveal a secret
which I have carried with me nine years, and which has become
burdensome.
Upon a certain occasion, nine years ago, I had said, with strong
feeling, * If ever I see Stu Louis again, I will seek out Mr. Brown,
the great grain merchant, and ask of him the privilege of shaking
hfm by the hand.*
The occasion and the circumstances were as follows. A friend of
mine, a clergyman, came one evening and said—
c I have a most remarkable letter here, which I want to read to
you, if I can do it without breaking down. I must preface it with
some explanations, however. The letter is written by an ex-thief
and ex-vagabond of the lowest origin and basest rearing, a man all
stained with crime and steeped in ignorance; but, thank God, with
a mine of pure gold hidden away in him, as yon shall see. Has letter
is written to a burglar named Williams, who is serving a nine-year
term in a certain. State prison, for burglary. Williams was a
particularly daring burglar, and plied that trade during a number of
years ; but he was caught at last and jailed, to await trial in a town
where he had broken into a house at night, pistol in hand, and forced
the owner to hand over to him $3,000 in government borwfe.
Williams was not a common sort of person, by any means; be wag a
graduate of Harvard College, and came of good New En^mnd stock.