the multitude of sins which it yet enabled the wearer, so far, to
conceal. Regarding him with all the favor which one is apt to feel
for the person whom he has plucked as a brand from the burning, the
soul of John Cross warmed to the young sinner; and it required no
great effort of the wily Stevens to win from him the history, not
only of all its own secrets and secret hopes--for these were of but
small value in the eyes of the worldling--but of all those matters
which belonged to the little village to which they were trending,
and the unwritten lives of every dweller in that happy community.

With all the adroit and circumspect art of the lawyer, sifting the
testimony of the unconscious witness, and worming from his custody
those minor details which seem to the uninitiated so perfectly
unimportant to the great matter immediately in hand--Stevens
now propounded his direct inquiry, and now dropped his seemingly
unconsidered insinuation, by which he drew from the preacher as
much as he cared to know of the rustic lads and lasses of Charlemont.
It does not concern our narrative to render the details thus unfolded
to the stranger. And we will content ourselves, as did the younger
of the travellers, who placed himself with hearty good will at the
disposal of the holy man.

"You shall find for me a place of lodging, Mr. Cross, while it
shall suit me to stay in Charlemont. You have a knowledge of the
people, and of the world, which I possess not; and it will be better
that I should give myself up to your guidance. I know that you will
not bring me to the dwelling of persons not in good repute; and,
perhaps, I need not remind you that my worldly means are small--I
must be at little charge wherever I stop."