Where was Dan? In prison. Alas for Mrs Jo! how her heart would haveached if she had known that while old Plum shone with Christmas cheerher boy sat alone in his cell, trying to read the little book shegave him, with eyes dimmed now and then by the hot tears no physicalsuffering had ever wrung from him, and longing with a homesick heartfor all that he had lost.

Yes, Dan was in prison; but no cry for help from him as he faced theterrible strait he was in with the dumb despair of an Indian at thestake; for his own bosom sin had brought him there, and this was tobe the bitter lesson that tamed the lawless spirit and taught himself-control.

The story of his downfall is soon told; for it came, as so oftenhappens, just when he felt unusually full of high hopes, goodresolutions, and dreams of a better life. On his journey he met apleasant young fellow, and naturally felt an interest in him, asBlair was on his way to join his elder brothers on a ranch in Kansas.Card-playing was going on in the smoking-car, and the lad - for hewas barely twenty - tired with the long journey, beguiled the way withsuch partners as appeared, being full of spirits, and a littleintoxicated with the freedom of the West. Dan, true to his promise,would not join, but watched with intense interest the games that wenton, and soon made up his mind that two of the men were sharpersanxious to fleece the boy, who had imprudently displayed awell-filled pocket-book. Dan always had a soft spot in his heart forany younger, weaker creature whom he met, and something about the ladreminded him of Teddy; so he kept an eye on Blair, and warned himagainst his new friends.

Vainly, of course; for when all stopped overnight in one of the greatcities, Dan missed the boy from the hotel whither he had taken himfor safe-keeping; and learning who had come for him, went to findhim, calling himself a fool for his pains, yet unable to leave theconfiding boy to the dangers that surrounded him.

He found him gambling in a low place with the men, who were bound tohave his money; and by the look of relief on Blair's anxious facewhen he saw him Dan knew without words that things were going badlywith him, and he saw the peril too late.

'I can't come yet - I've lost; it's not my money; I must get it back,or I dare not face my brothers,' whispered the poor lad, when Danbegged him to get away without further loss. Shame and fear made himdesperate; and he played on, sure that he could recover the moneyconfided to his care. Seeing Dan's resolute face, keen eye, andtravelled air, the sharpers were wary, played fair, and let the boywin a little; but they had no mind to give up their prey, and findingthat Dan stood sentinel at the boy's back, an ominous glance wasexchanged between them, which meant:

'We must get this fellow out of the way.'

Dan saw it, and was on his guard; for he and Blair were strangers,evil deeds are easily done in such places, and no tales told. But hewould not desert the boy, and still kept watch of every card till heplainly detected false play, and boldly said so. High words passed,Dan's indignation overcame his prudence; and when the cheat refusedto restore his plunder with insulting words and drawn pistol, Dan'shot temper flashed out, and he knocked the man down with a blow thatsent him crashing head first against a stove, to roll senseless andbleeding to the floor. A wild scene followed, but in the midst of itDan whispered to the boy: 'Get away, and hold your tongue. Don't mindme.'

Frightened and bewildered, Blair quitted the city at once, leavingDan to pass the night in the lock-up, and a few days later to standin court charged with manslaughter; for the man was dead. Dan had nofriends, and having once briefly told the story, held his peace,anxious to keep all knowledge of this sad affair from those at home.He even concealed his name - giving that of David Kent, as he had doneseveral times before in emergencies. It was all over very soon; butas there were extenuating circumstances his sentence was a year inprison, with hard labour.

Dazed by the rapidity with which this horrible change in his lifecame upon him, Dan did not fully realize it till the iron doorclanged behind him and he sat alone in a cell as narrow, cold, andsilent as a tomb. He knew that a word would bring Mr Laurie to helpand comfort him; but he could not bear to tell of this disgrace, orsee the sorrow and the shame it would cause the friends who hoped somuch for him.

'No,' he said, clenching his fist, 'I'll let them think me dead first.I shall be if I am kept here long'; and he sprang up to pace thestone floor like a caged lion, with a turmoil of wrath and grief,rebellion and remorse, seething in heart and brain, till he felt asif he should go mad and beat upon the walls that shut him away fromthe liberty which was his life. For days he suffered terribly, thenworn out, sank into a black melancholy sadder to see than hisexcitement.

The warden of this prison was a rough man who had won the ill will ofall by unnecessary harshness, but the chaplain was full of sympathy,and did his hard duty faithfully and tenderly. He laboured with poorDan, but seemed to make no impression, and was forced to wait tillwork had soothed the excited nerves and captivity tamed the proudspirit that would suffer but not complain.

Dan was put in the brush-shop, and feeling that activity was his onlysalvation, worked with a feverish energy that soon won the approvalof the master and the envy of less skilful mates. Day after day hesat in his place, watched by an armed overseer, forbidden any butnecessary words, no intercourse with the men beside him, no changebut from cell to shop, no exercise but the dreary marches to and fro,each man's hand on the other's shoulder keeping step with the drearytramp so different from the ringing tread of soldiers. Silent, gaunt,and grim, Dan did his daily task, ate his bitter bread, and obeyedcommands with a rebellious flash of the eye, that made the wardensay:

'That's a dangerous man. Watch him. He'll break out some day.'

There were others more dangerous than he, because older in crime andready for any desperate outbreak to change the monotony of longsentences. These men soon divined Dan's mood, and in the mysteriousway convicts invent, managed to convey to him before a month was overthat plans were being made for a mutiny at the first opportunity.Thanksgiving Day was one of the few chances for them to speaktogether as they enjoyed an hour of freedom in the prison yard. Thenall would be settled and the rash attempt made if possible, probablyto end in bloodshed and defeat for most, but liberty for a few. Danhad already planned his own escape and bided his time, growing moreand more moody, fierce, and rebellious, as loss of liberty wore uponsoul and body; for this sudden change from his free, healthy life tosuch a narrow, gloomy, and miserable one, could not but have aterrible effect upon one of Dan's temperament and age.

He brooded over his ruined life, gave up all his happy hopes andplans, felt that he could never face dear old Plumfield again, ortouch those friendly hands, with the stain of blood upon his own. Hedid not care for the wretched man whom he had killed, for such a lifewas better ended, he thought; but the disgrace of prison would neverbe wiped out of his memory, though the cropped hair would grow again,the grey suit easily be replaced, and the bolts and bars left farbehind.

'It's all over with me; I've spoilt my life, now let it go. I'll giveup the fight and get what pleasure I can anywhere, anyhow. They shallthink me dead and so still care for me, but never know what I am.Poor Mother Bhaer! she tried to help me, but it's no use; thefirebrand can't be saved.'

And dropping his head in his hands as he sat on his low bed, Danwould mourn over all he had lost in tearless misery, till mercifulsleep would comfort him with dreams of the happy days when the boysplayed together, or those still later and happier ones when allsmiled on him, and Plumfield seemed to have gained a new and curiouscharm.

There was one poor fellow in Dan's shop whose fate was harder thanhis, for his sentence expired in the spring, but there was littlehope of his living till that time; and the coldest-hearted man pitiedpoor Mason as he sat coughing his life away in that close place andcounting the weary days yet to pass before he could see his wife andlittle child again. There was some hope that he might be pardonedout, but he had no friends to bestir themselves in the matter, and itwas evident that the great Judge's pardon would soon end his patientpain for ever.

Dan pitied him more than he dared to show, and this one tenderemotion in that dark time was like the little flower that sprung upbetween the stones of the prison yard and saved the captive fromdespair, in the beautiful old story. Dan helped Mason with his workwhen he was too feeble to finish his task, and the grateful look thatthanked him was a ray of sunshine to cheer his cell when he wasalone. Mason envied the splendid health of his neighbour, and mournedto see it wasting there. He was a peaceful soul and tried, as far asa whispered word or warning glance could do it, to deter Dan fromjoining the 'bad lot', as the rebels were called. But having turnedhis face from the light, Dan found the downward way easy, and took agrim satisfaction in the prospect of a general outbreak during whichhe might revenge himself upon the tyrannical warden, and strike ablow for his own liberty, feeling that an hour of insurrection wouldbe a welcome vent for the pent-up passions that tormented him. He hadtamed many a wild animal, but his own lawless spirit was too much forhim, till he found the curb that made him master of himself.

The Sunday before Thanksgiving, as he sat in chapel, Dan observedseveral guests in the seats reserved for them, and looked anxiouslyto see if any familiar face was there; for he had a mortal fear thatsomeone from home would suddenly confront him. No, all werestrangers, and he soon forgot them in listening to the chaplain'scheerful words, and the sad singing of many heavy hearts. Peopleoften spoke to the convicts, so it caused no surprise when, on beinginvited to address them, one of the ladies rose and said she wouldtell them a little story; which announcement caused the youngerlisteners to pack up their ears, and even the older ones to lookinterested; for any change in their monotonous life was welcome.

The speaker was a middle-aged woman in black, with a sympatheticface, eyes full of compassion, and a voice that seemed to warm theheart, because of certain motherly tones in it. She reminded Dan ofMrs Jo, and he listened intently to every word, feeling that each wasmeant for him, because by chance, they came at the moment when heneeded a softening memory to break up the ice of despair which wasblighting all the good impulses of his nature.

It was a very simple little story, but it caught the men's attentionat once, being about two soldiers in a hospital during the late war,both badly wounded in the right arm, and both anxious to save thesebreadwinners and go home unmaimed. One was patient, docile, andcheerfully obeyed orders, even when told that the arm must go. Hesubmitted and after much suffering recovered, grateful for life,though he could fight no more. The other rebelled, would listen to noadvice, and having delayed too long, died a lingering death, bitterlyregretting his folly when it was too late. 'Now, as all storiesshould have a little moral, let me tell you mine,' added the lady,with a smile, as she looked at the row of young men before her, sadlywondering what brought them there.

'This is a hospital for soldiers wounded in life's battle; here aresick souls, weak wills, insane passions, blind consciences, all theills that come from broken laws, bringing their inevitable pain andpunishment with them, There is hope and help for every one, for God'smercy is infinite and man's charity is great; but penitence andsubmission must come before the cure is possible. Pay the forfeitmanfully, for it is just; but from the suffering and shame wring newstrength for a nobler life. The scar will remain, but it is betterfor a man to lose both arms than his soul; and these hard years,instead of being lost, may be made the most precious of your lives,if they teach you to rule yourselves. O friends, try to outlive thebitter past, to wash the sin away, and begin anew. If not for yourown sakes, for that of the dear mothers, wives, and children, whowait and hope so patiently for you. Remember them, and do not letthem love and long in vain. And if there be any here so forlorn thatthey have no friend to care for them, never forget the Father whosearms are always open to receive, forgive, and comfort His prodigalsons, even at the eleventh hour.' There the little sermon ended; butthe preacher of it felt that her few hearty words had not beenuttered in vain, for one boy's head was down, and several faces worethe softened look which told that a tender memory was touched. Danwas forced to set his lips to keep them steady, and drop his eyes tohide the sudden dew that dimmed them when waiting, hoping friendswere spoken of. He was glad to be alone in his cell again, and satthinking deeply, instead of trying to forget himself in sleep. Itseemed as if those words were just what he needed to show him wherehe stood and how fateful the next few days might be to him. Should hejoin the 'bad lot', and perhaps add another crime to the one alreadycommitted, lengthen the sentence already so terrible to bear,deliberately turn his back on all that was good, and mar the futurethat might yet be redeemed? Or should he, like the wiser man in thestory, submit, bear the just punishment, try to be better for it; andthough the scar would remain, it might serve as a reminder of abattle not wholly lost, since he had saved his soul though innocencewas gone? Then he would dare go home, perhaps, confess, and findfresh strength in the pity and consolation of those who never gavehim up.

Good and evil fought for Dan that night as did the angel and thedevil for Sintram, and it was hard to tell whether lawless nature orloving heart would conquer. Remorse and resentment, shame and sorrow,pride and passion, made a battle-field of that narrow cell, and thepoor fellow felt as if he had fiercer enemies to fight now than anyhe had met in all his wanderings. A little thing turned the scale, asit so often does in these mysterious hearts of ours, and a touch ofsympathy helped Dan decide the course which would bless or ban hislife.

In the dark hour before the dawn, as he lay wakeful on his bed, a rayof light shone through the bars, the bolts turned softly, and a mancame in. It was the good chaplain, led by the same instinct thatbrings a mother to her sick child's pillow; for long experience asnurse of souls had taught him to see the signs of hope in the hardfaces about him, and to know when the moment came for a helpful wordand the cordial of sincere prayer that brings such comfort andhealing to tried and troubled hearts. He had been to Dan before atunexpected hours, but always found him sullen, indifferent, orrebellious, and had gone away to patiently bide his time. Now it hadcome; a look of relief was in the prisoner's face as the light shoneon it, and the sound of a human voice was strangely comfortable afterlistening to the whispers of the passions, doubts, and fears whichhad haunted the cell for hours, dismaying Dan by their power, andshowing him how much he needed help to fight the good fight, since hehad no armour of his own.

'Kent, poor Mason has gone. He left a message for you, and I feltimpelled to come and give it now, because I think you were touched bywhat we heard today, and in need of the help Mason tried to giveyou,' said the chaplain, taking the one seat and fixing his kind eyeson the grim figure in the bed.

'Thank you, sir, I'd like to hear it,' was all Dan's answer; but heforgot himself in pity for the poor fellow dead in prison, with nolast look at wife or child.

He went suddenly, but remembered you, and begged me to say these words: "Tell him not to do it, but to hold on, do his best, and whenhis time is out go right to Mary, and she'll make him welcome for mysake. He's got no friends in these parts and will feel lonesome, buta woman's always safe and comfortable when a fellow's down on his luck. Give him my love and good-bye for he was kind to me, and Godwill bless him for it." Then he died quietly, and tomorrow will gohome with God's pardon, since man's came too late.'

Dan said nothing, but laid his arm across his face and lay quitestill. Seeing that the pathetic little message had done its work evenbetter than he hoped, the chaplain went on, unconscious how soothinghis paternal voice was to the poor prisoner who longed to 'go home',but felt he had forfeited the right.

'I hope you won't disappoint this humble friend whose last thoughtwas for you. I know that there is trouble brewing, and fear that youmay be tempted to lend a hand on the wrong side. Don't do it, for theplot will not succeed - it never does - and it would be a pity to spoilyour record which is fair so far. Keep up your courage, my son, andgo out at the year's end better, not worse, for this hard experience.Remember a grateful woman waits to welcome and thank you if you haveno friends of your own; if you have, do your best for their sake, andlet us ask God to help you as He only can.'

Then waiting for no answer the good man prayed heartily, and Danlistened as he never had before; for the lonely hour, the dyingmessage, the sudden uprising of his better self, made it seem as ifsome kind angel had come to save and comfort him. After that nightthere was a change in Dan, though no one knew it but the chaplain;for to all the rest he was the same silent, stern, unsocial fellow asbefore, and turning his back on the bad and the good alike, found hisonly pleasure in the books his friend brought him. Slowly, as thesteadfast drop wears away the rock, the patient kindness of this manwon Dan's confidence, and led by him he began to climb out of theValley of Humiliation towards the mountains, whence, through theclouds, one can catch glimpses of the Celestial City whither all truepilgrims sooner or later turn their wistful eyes and stumbling feet.There were many back-slidings, many struggles with Giant Despair andfiery Apollyon, many heavy hours when life did not seem worth livingand Mason's escape the only hope. But through all, the grasp of afriendly hand, the sound of a brother's voice, the unquenchabledesire to atone for the past by a better future, and win the right tosee home again, kept poor Dan to his great task as the old year drewto its end, and the new waited to turn another leaf in the book whosehardest lesson he was learning now.

At Christmas he yearned so for Plumfield that he devised a way tosend a word of greeting to cheer their anxious hearts, and comforthis own. He wrote to Mary Mason, who lived in another State, askingher to mail the letter he enclosed. In it he merely said he was welland busy, had given up the farm, and had other plans which he wouldtell later; would not be home before autumn probably, nor writeoften, but was all right, and sent love and merry Christmas toeveryone.

Then he took up his solitary life again, and tried to pay his forfeitmanfully.