e bitter complaints of
cruel injustice, and the broken-hearted lamentations she had imagined
herself pouring out in sympathy with her victim brother. Instead of
being wrung with anguish, her heart was lulled and quelled by wondering
reverence; and she seemed to herself scarcely awake, and only dimly
conscious of the pale-cheeked bright-eyed face upturned to her, so calm
and undaunted, yet so full of awe and love, the low steady tender
voice, and the warm upholding arm.

A great clock struck, and Leonard said, 'There! they were to come at
four, and then the chaplain is coming. He is grown so very kind now!
Ave, if they would let you be with me at my last Communion! Will you?
Could you bear it? I think then you would know all the peace of it!'

'Oh, yes! make them let me come.'

'Then it is not good-bye,' he said, as he fetched her bonnet and cloak,
and put them on with tender hands, as if she were a child, in readiness
as steps approached, and her escort reappeared.

'Here she is, Henry,' he said, with a smile. 'She has been very good;
she may come again.' And then, holding her in his arms once more, he
resigned her to Henry, saying, 'Not good-bye, Ave; we will keep my
birthday together.'

CHAPTER XVI

The captives went
To their own places, to their separate glooms,
Uncheered by glance, or hand, or hope, to brood
On those impossible glories of the past,
When they might touch the grass, and see the sky,
And do the works of men. But manly work
Is sometimes in a prison.--S. M. Queen Isabel

'Commutation of punishment, to penal servitude for life.'

Such were the tidings that ran through Stoneborough on Sunday morning,
making all feel as if a heavy oppression had been taken from the air.
In gratitude to the merciful authorities, and thankfulness for the
exemption from death, the first impressions were that Justice was at
last speaking, that innocence could not suffer, and that right was
reasserting itself. Even when the more sober and sad remembered that
leniency was not pardon, nor life liberty, they were hastily answered
that life was everything--life was hope, life was time, and time would
show truth.

Averil's first tears dropped freely, as she laid her head on Mary's
shoulder, and with her hand in Dr. May's, essayed to utter the words,
'It is your doing--you have twice saved him for me,' and Minna stood
calmly glad, but without surprise. 'I knew they cou