kindnesses that I have received here from almost everybody, and on the
day of my release I shall give many thanks to many people, and ask to be
remembered by them in turn."

This is the man whom Mr. Justice Wills addressed as insensible to any
high appeal.

Some time passed before I visited Oscar again. The change in him was
extraordinary. He was light-hearted, gay, and looked better than I had
ever seen him: clearly the austerity of prison life suited him. He met
me with a jest:

"It is you, Frank!" he cried as if astonished, "always original! You
come back to prison of your own free-will!"

He declared that the new governor--Major Nelson[3] was his name--had
been as kind as possible to him. He had not had a punishment for months,
and "Oh, Frank, the joy of reading when you like and writing as you
please--the delight of living again!" He was so infinitely improved that
his talk delighted me.

"What books have you?" I asked.

"I thought I should like the 'Oedipus Rex,'" he replied gravely; "but
I could not read it. It all seemed unreal to me. Then I thought of St.
Augustine, but he was worse still. The fathers of the Church were still
further away from me; they all found it so easy to repent and change
their lives: it does not seem to me easy. At last I got hold of Dante.
Dante was what I wanted. I read the 'Purgatorio' all through, forced
myself to read it in Italian to get the full savour and significance of