that terrible question which had been ringing in my ears ever since.
Even as I talked to him about my picture, and even as he answered in
pleasant and friendly tones, through them all and above them all came
the words which were burnt in upon my memory: 'What are the depths, the
fearful depths, to which you are being drawn?'

'I hope my children are not troublesome to you,' he said.

'Oh no,' I answered; 'I love to have them here, and Jack and I are great
friends. Do you know,' I went on, 'he took me into your study the other
day? I am afraid I was taking a great liberty; but the little man would
hear of no refusal--he wanted me to see the old barrel-organ.'

'What, my dear old organ!' he answered. 'Yes, Jack is nearly as fond of
it as his father is.'

'His father?' I replied, for it seemed strange to me that a man of his
years should care for what appeared to me scarcely better than a broken
toy.

'That organ has a history,' he said, as he noticed my surprise; 'if you
knew the history, you would not wonder that I love it. I owe all I am in
this world, all I hope to be in the world to come, to that poor old
organ. Some day, when you have time to listen, perhaps you may like to
hear the story of the organ.'

'Thank you,' I said; 'the sooner the better.'

'Then come and have supper with us to-night. Nellie will be very pleased
to see you, and the bairns will be in bed, and we shall have plenty of