Stay an' help us along, Tom!--you was allus brave an' strong an' hearty--an' there's many of us wantin' comfort an' cheer, eh Tom ?" Tom's splendid dark eyes opened, and a smile, very wan and wistful, gleamed across his lips.
"Is that you, Jim ?" he muttered feebly.

"It's all dark and cold!--I can't see!--there'll be a frost to-night, and the lambs must be watched a bit--I'm afraid I can't help you, Jim--not to-night! Wanting comfort, did you say?
Ay!--plenty wanting that, but I'm past giving it, my boy! I'm done." He drew a struggling breath with pain and difficulty.
"You see, Jim, I've killed a man!" he went on, gaspingly--"And--and--I've no money--we all share and share alike in camp--it won't be worth any one's while to find excuses for me.

They'd shut me up in prison if I lived--but now--God's my judge! And He's merciful--He's giving me my liberty!" His eyelids fell wearily, and a shadow, dark at first, and then lightening into an ivory pallor, began to cover his features like a fine mask, at sight of which the girls, Elizabeth and Grace, with their mother, knelt down and hid their faces.

Every one in the room knelt too, and there was a profound stillness.

Tom's breathing grew heavier and more laboured,--once they made an attempt to lift the weight of his child's dead body from his breast, but his hands were clenched upon it convulsively and they could not loosen his hold.