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The prisoner, when the door was closed on him, sat upon the side
of his berth and buried his face in his hands. Tears trickled through
the fingers and fell upon his chains. He was agitated; his chest heaved,
and his whole form seemed wrung with mental anguish. All at once
he ceased his outward expression of emotion, and removed his hands
from his face. It was deathly pale.

`Yes, yes, I am a felon! The proud and high spirited Preston
Randolph is a chained felon! That I should ever have seen these hands
thus bound! Yes, I am a forger! The act of one moment I must
expiate on the gallows! Yet, if ever man had excuse for crime, I
have! And am I the villian these chain would mark me? No, I am
not stained with guilt! My soul is not black! One act of my life is
not to make me all at once a villain! I am innocent in thought and
motive! I had no intention of wrong! It was circumstances that
made the guilt, and not the act! Oh, that I could prove to the world
the integrity of my heart, spite the dishonesty of my hand! I could
then again lift my head up among men. But now, no one pities; all
men scorn. Crime, or the suspicion of it, destroys the link that binds
men to their species. All sympathy dies! No, I err there! Woman's
heart bleeds for the unfortunate—ay, for the guilty—for the
basest, if he be penitent! Heaven forgives and receives the penitent,
so does woman! I could have knelt at the feet of those divine creatures,
as I passed through the saloon. I read sympathy in every lovely
lineament! One of them looked to me like an angel form I once
beheld in my dreams! I was overpowered by the sight of her! Did
I see her in reality? Am I not dreaming now? Oh, that I were, that
I were!' and the youth hung his head despondingly upon his breast.

Preston Randolph belonged to one of the best Virginian families.

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He was the nephew of a wealthy gentleman who had disinherited his
son for marrying contrary to his wishes. Preston was then a student at
law in Philadelphia. His uncle sent for him to hasten to visit him.
On arriving he found him quite ill in bed. He however dictated a
will which by his direction, his nephew drew up, writing it down word
for word as it came from his lips. The will made him his sole heir.
A magistrate had been sent for to attest it, but had not arrived when
the dying man said he must sign it without delay or it would be too
late. Preston placed it before him and gave him the pen. His uncle
formed the two first letters of his name, `Francis Dayton,' when he was
seized with convulsions, the pen dropped from his hand, and he fell
back and expired.

For a moment Preston was overcome with grief and surprise; the
next instant he recollected that the will had not been signed. The
consequences flashed upon his mind. He yielded to the temptation of the
moment, seized the pen and completed with his own hand the signature!

Just as he had done so, the magistrate entered. He approached the
bed, and laid his hand upon the still warm temples. He then glanced
at the will and looked enquringly at Preston who held it in his hand.

`Just able to sign it,' said Preston handing it to him without
looking up. It was the first falsehood he had ever spoken.

`Um, um,' he said, `all right I wish I had been here a moment sooner.
But as I knew his intention to make you his heir, I will to stop
all objections, just attest it.'

This magistrate of easy conscience then affixed his name and official
seal to the instrument, and Preston Randolph Dayton became
possessor of the vast property of his uncle. There was, however, a
witness to this instrument whom they little suspected. It was a shrewd
attorney, whom the son of the deceased had sent to see if he could not
prevail upon his father to make, at least, some bequest in his favor.
He arrived a few moments before Preston commenced writing the
will, and walking across the lawn, came upon the gallery unobserved.
As he passed along towards the main entrance, his inquisitive curiosity
led him to peep in at the long windows which were trellised with
vines. To his surprise and satisfaction, through one of these he beheld
the invalid with Preston by his bedside. Unobserved, he heard
and saw all that transpired.

With the possession of this important secret he hastened away. He
let Preston take full management of the property, and then privately

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charged him with the forgery, promising to compound with him for a
third of the estate. Preston, after the first alarm and surprise had
passed, refused to do it, and insulted him. The attorney then vowed
to expose him, when the guilty young man overcome with remorse,
shame, and fear of punishment, fled. He was, eventually, arrested at
Vicksburg; and on the requisition of the governor of Virginia, who
despatched officers for him, he was taken from prison, and now placed
in chains on board our boat.

It was, indeed, a hard lot for a noble youth like him. How great
and irresistable the temptation! Stronger principles would have
saved him this crime even at the expense of a vast fortune. But Preston
Dayton was ambitious, proud, and loved wealth for the power and
pleasure it conferred. The temptation offered itself—he embraced
it, and fell! His guilt was, it was true, unpremeditated. He intended
no fraud the moment before. He had really, only fulfilled his uncle's
intention. Yet, it would have been better if he had left it as it
was, with this intention so strongly apparent in the first two or three
trembling letters he had signed of his name. How eloquent it would
have spoken in a court of equity. But at all events, truth and integrity
are safest and best. Yet, to what man living would not the idea
have occurred to complete the unfinished signature? Many men,
good Christian men, who fear to do evil, though but the eye of God
is upon them, would have resisted the thought; but many, alas! too
many, would have done like Preston Randolph.

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