Christ is very pitiful.

They brought me out of madness into sense, and out of storm into calm.

As I sat at night in my cell I could bear once more to think of the little ivy-covered cottage, of the green grave in the churchyard, and of the two helpless children who might still live to call me father.
What had become of them?
They were perhaps growing up into boyhood and girlhood, beginning to discover for themselves the snares and sorrows of the world which had overcome me.

Need I tell you I prayed for those two night and day?
A convict's prayer it was--a forger's prayer, a thief's prayer; but a father's prayer to a pitiful Father for his children.
"After ten years I received a `ticket-of-leave,' and was free to return home.

But I could not do it yet.