prepared to make myself comfortable.

A few seconds later another man got into the carriage. He also made
room for himself among the luggage and sat down.

"I am afraid that seat's taken, sir," said B. when he had recovered
his surprise at the man's coolness. "In fact, all the seats in this
carriage are taken."

"I can't help that," replied the ruffian, cynically. "I've got to
get to Cologne some time to-day, and there seems no other way of
doing it that I can see."

"Yes, but so has the gentleman whose seat you have taken got to get
there," I remonstrated; "what about him? You are thinking only of
yourself!"

My sense of right and justice was beginning to assert itself, and I
felt quite indignant with the fellow. Two minutes ago, as I have
explained, I could contemplate the taking of another man's seat with
equanimity. Now, such an act seemed to me shameful. The truth is
that my better nature never sleeps for long. Leave it alone and it
wakens of its own accord. Heaven help me! I am a sinful, worldly
man, I know; but there is good at the bottom of me. It wants
hauling up, but it's there.

This man had aroused it. I now saw the sinfulness of taking another
passenger's place in a railway-carriage.

But I could not make the other man see it. I felt that some service