At these words the latter started up from the table and left the room.  At the street door he found a man, whose appearance indicated his attachment to the police of the city.

“Mr. Howland!” said he, respectfully, yet with the air of a man who had something not very agreeable to communicate.

“That is my name,” replied Mr. Howland, striving, but in vain, to assume an air of unconcern.

“You are wanted at the Mayor’s office,” said the policeman.

“For what purpose?” was inquired.

“Your son is before his Honor, on a charge of attempting to set fire to a row of new buildings last night.”

At this intelligence, Mr. Howland uttered an exclamation of distress, and stepping back a pace or two, leaned heavily against the wall.

“Well!  What is wanted with me?” asked the unhappy father, recovering himself, after a few moments.

“To go his bail,” replied the officer.  “The Mayor demands a thousand dollars bail, in default of which, he will have to go to prison and there await his trial.”

“Let him go to prison!” said Mr. Howland, in a severe tone of voice.  He was beginning to regain his self-possession.

“No, Andrew!” came firmly from the lips of Mrs. Howland, who had followed her husband, unperceived, to the door, and who had heard the dreadful charge preferred against her son.  “Don’t say that!  Go and save him from the disgrace and wrong that now hang over his head—­and go quickly!”

“Yes, Mr. Howland,” said the officer, “your lady is right.  You should not let him go to prison.  That will do him no good.  And, moreover, he may be innocent of the crime laid to his charge.”

“He must be innocent.  My boy has many faults, but he would not be guilty of a crime like this,” said Mrs. Howland.  “Oh, Mr. Howland! go! go quickly and save him from these dreadful consequences.  If you do not, I must fly to him.  They shall not imprison my poor boy!”

“This is folly, Esther!” returned Mr. Howland, severely.  “He has got himself, by his bad conduct, into the hands of the law, and it will do him good to feel its iron grip.  I am clear for letting him at least go to prison, and remain there for a few days.  By that time he will be sick enough of his folly.”

“I would not advise this,” suggested the officer.  “Depend upon it, if his present position is of no avail toward working change for the better—­sending him to prison will harden, rather than reform him.”

“Andrew!” said Mrs. Howland, with a firmness and decision of tone that marked a high degree of resolution on her part—­“if you do not go his bail, I will find some person who will.”

“Esther!” The offended husband fixed a look of stern rebuke upon his wife; but her large eyes looked steadily into his, and he saw in them, not rebellion, or anger—­but a spirit that his own heart told him instinctively, it would be folly for him to oppose.  That look determined his action.