For a moment or two he sat silently sobbing; his whole frame was shaking,
and looking up with a woebegone countenance, said: "Doctor, let me come
to your room tonight after chapel prayers."

"Very well; I shall be glad to see you," said Doctor Marmion, kindly, and
rising, he went out, leaving Carl alone.

At the close of the evening service the doctor and Carl found themselves
alone in the vestry. The younger man took from the pocket of his top coat
a package, and, handing it to the doctor, said: "I want you to take this
package and open it; it will tell its own tale."

Somewhat surprised, the doctor went to a stand close by and did as he was
requested. The next moment he stood speechless with astonishment, for he
held in his hands money, English bank notes, more than he had ever before
seen. What did it all mean?

"There, Doctor," sobbed Carl, who had approached him, tremblingly, "is
my crime; and growing out of it is my other and greater crime. I have
been and still am a living lie. My father and mother think me dead. They
have suffered--how much, I cannot tell. And my father was here. His
expected coming made me ill; nor did he see me. Are you surprised that I
do not desire to live? Father's belief in my death is easier for him to
bear than it would be to know that I am alive and a criminal."

Then it was for the first time that the doctor grasped the full
story--that this gifted, promising young man, lovable and genial, so
attractive as to appeal to him as no other had ever done, should, of all
men, prove a thief, one who had stolen a large amount of money from the
great bank. The doctor was dumfounded! He knew not what to say.