“Sometimes, in the pauses of our mirth, gaming was introduced as an amusement.  It was an art in which I was a novice.  I received instruction, as other novices do, by losing pretty largely to my teachers.  Nor was this the only evil which Mountford foresaw would arise from the connection I had formed; but a lecture of sour injunctions was not his method of reclaiming.  He sometimes asked me questions about the company, but they were such as the curiosity of any indifferent man might have prompted.  I told him of their wit, their eloquence, their warmth of friendship, and their sensibility of heart.  ‘And their honour,’ said I, laying my hand on my breast, ‘is unquestionable.’  Mountford seemed to rejoice at my good fortune, and begged that I would introduce him to their acquaintance.  At the next meeting I introduced him accordingly.

“The conversation was as animated as usual.  They displayed all that sprightliness and good-humour which my praises had led Mountford to expect; subjects, too, of sentiment occurred, and their speeches, particularly those of our friend the son of Count Respino, glowed with the warmth of honour, and softened into the tenderness of feeling.  Mountford was charmed with his companions.  When we parted, he made the highest eulogiums upon them.  ’When shall we see them again?’ said he.  I was delighted with the demand, and promised to reconduct him on the morrow.

“In going to their place of rendezvous, he took me a little out of the road, to see, as he told me, the performances of a young statuary.  When we were near the house in which Mountford said he lived, a boy of about seven years old crossed us in the street.  At sight of Mountford he stopped, and grasping his hand,

“‘My dearest sir,’ said he, ’my father is likely to do well.  He will live to pray for you, and to bless you.  Yes, he will bless you, though you are an Englishman, and some other hard word that the monk talked of this morning, which I have forgot, but it meant that you should not go to heaven; but he shall go to heaven, said I, for he has saved my father.  Come and see him, sir, that we may be happy.’

“‘My dear, I am engaged at present with this gentleman.’

“’But he shall come along with you; he is an Englishman, too, I fancy.  He shall come and learn how an Englishman may go to heaven.’

“Mountford smiled, and we followed the boy together.

“After crossing the next street, we arrived at the gate of a prison.  I seemed surprised at the sight; our little conductor observed it.

“‘Are you afraid, sir?’ said he.  ’I was afraid once too, but my father and mother are here, and I am never afraid when I am with them.’

“He took my hand, and led me through a dark passage that fronted the gate.  When we came to a little door at the end, he tapped.  A boy, still younger than himself, opened it to receive us.  Mountford entered with a look in which was pictured the benign assurance of a superior being.  I followed in silence and amazement.