d cried to God for mercy in the
Saviour's name.

By daybreak next morning he was awakened out of the first dreamless
sleep that he had enjoyed, and bid get up. A slight breakfast of bread
and water was handed to him, which he ate by the light of a homemade
candle stuck in the neck of a quart bottle. Soon afterwards Crossby
descended, and bade him ascend the wooden stair or ladder. He did so,
and found the party of miners assembled under arms, and ready for the
road.

"I'm sorry I can't help 'ee," said Paul Bevan, drawing the unhappy youth
aside, and speaking in a low voice. "I would if I could, for I owe my
life to you, but they won't listen to reason. I sent Betty out o' the
way, lad, a-purpose. Thought it better she shouldn't see you, but--"

"Come, come, old man, time's up," interrupted Gashford, roughly; "we
must be off. Now, march, my young slippery-heels. I needn't tell you
not to try to bolt again. You'll find it difficult to do that."

As they moved off and began their march through the forest on foot, Tom
Brixton felt that escape was indeed out of the question, for, while
three men marched in front of him, four marched on either side, each
with rifle on shoulder, and the rest of the band brought up the rear.
But even if his chances had not been so hopeless, he would not have made
any further effort to save himself, for he had given himself thoroughly
up to despair. In the midst of this a slight sense of relief, mingled
with the bitterness of disappointment, when he found that Betty had been
sent out of the way, and that he would see her no more, for he could not
bear the thought of her seeing him thus led away.

"May I speak with the prisoner for a few minutes?" said Fred Westly to
Gashford, as they plodded through the woods. "He has been my comrade
for several years, and I promised his poor mother never to forsake him.
May I, Gashford?"

"No," was the sharp reply, and then, as if relenting, "Well, yes, you
may; but be brief, and no underhand dealing, mind, for if you attempt to
help him you shall be a dead man the next moment, as sure as I'm a
living one. An' you needn't be too soft, Westly," he added, with a
cynical smile. "Your chum has--Well, it's no business o' mine. You can
go to him."

Poor Tom Brixton started as his old friend went up to him, and then hung
his head.

"Dear Tom," said Fred, in a low voice, "don't give way to despair. With
God all things are possible, and even if