"No, Jane," he replied gently; "but I've been bad. Listen, old gal, and I'll tell you all about it. You were right when you said the money I brought you lately weren't all honestly come by."
"Oh, Bob!"
"Hush, my gal; don't interrupt me. It's hard on a fellow to have such a tale to tell. You know, Jennie, how long I've been out of reg'lar work, and how hard I tried to get some of the farmers round to take me on; but they all said they had nothing for me to do. Well, when you was took bad, I got desperate like; and one mornin', when I was doin' an odd job o' digging in Mr. Thorn's garden, I heard his hens a-cackling; and as I knowed when he collected the eggs, I got up early next day, and managed to slip in afore he was about; and as I wasn't found out, I did it again and again; and as I had nothing to do after the diggin', I walked to Market Littleton and sold 'em; and so I did many a time. Well, this morning I met Mr. Thorn in the village. I tried to skulk out of his way, but he walked up quite friendly-like, and says he, 'I wish I had known you were so fond of eggs. I'd have given you some,' says he, 'and welcome.' Well, I tried to brave it out, and swore I knew nought of his eggs, but he went on quite friendly in his funny way. 'Bob,' says he, 'you shall have as many as you like, only let me have the pleasure of getting them for you. It's a pity for you to get up so early, and have all the trouble of getting over the fence, and opening the door with a bit of wire, when I could send them to you without any fuss.' Well, Jane, I went down on my knees then, and I said, 'If you'll forgive me this time, sir, I'll never do it again; only don't send me to jail. 'Twould break my gal's heart, it would'; and then he puts half-a-crown into my hand, and he goes with me to a friend of his, and gets me taken on with the horses."
"Oh, Bob, how could you?" said Jane, crying; "and Mr. Thorn such a nice, kind-spoken gentleman! And oh, if anybody else knows, you'll get the name of a thief!"
"No one else does know, my gal, and I am sure that Mr. Thorn will keep it close. He said he 'spected me the day afore yesterday, when he seed me at Market Littleton sellin' some eggs, and says he, 'I didn't like to 'spect you, Bob; but after my 'spicions was roused, I watched yesterday mornin' and this mornin';' and as I was a-coming out of the hen-house this mornin', he seed me, and says he, ''Tis an ill deed that has to be done in the dark, Bob.'"
A night or two afterwards, as Bob was passing a building where services were being held, he fancied that he heard Mr. Thorn's voice, and he went into the porch to listen. Yes, it was John Thorn's voice. He was praying, and it seemed to Bob that he was praying for him. He prayed for those who were sorely tempted, and who had no strength to resist—who had never savingly heard the voice of the Lord, and who never used His name but in oaths. "That's me," said poor Bob, with a groan. After the prayer, the hymn, "Just as I am," was sung, and then a short address was given by the preacher.
"Needy sinners, come just as you are," said the preacher. "Jesus died for sinners. Come with all your sins upon you. Don't try to wash off some of the biggest ones; you will only make the dirty stains worse. Come just as you are. You perhaps think of others—your old companions who will laugh at you, and so you are ashamed. Were you ashamed of that mean act you did in the dark the other morning?"
"He knows all about it," thought Bob, and he covered his face with his hands. At that moment of supreme misery, some one touched him on the shoulder, and looking up in terror, Bob saw the man whom he had robbed gazing down upon him, with his kind eyes full of pity and compassion for the poor sorrow-stricken man.
"You've bin and told him," hissed Bob.