d not a servant; God is my witness;
now then?"

"I am glad to hear you say so," he answered. "I did you a terrible
injury once; I have often been sorry for it since I knew you, but it
cannot be mended now."

"Since you knew me?" she said. "Why, you have known me ever since I
have been in the country, and you have never injured me since then,
surely."

"Ay, but at home," he said. "In England. In Devonshire."

"My God!"

"I was your husband's companion in all his earlier villanies. I
suggested them to him, and egged him on. And now, mind you, after
twenty years, my punishment is coming."

She could only say still, "My God!" while her throat was as dry as a
kiln.

"Listen to what I have got to tell you now. Hear it all in order, and
try to bear up, and use your common sense and courage. As I said
before, you have good friends around you, and you at least are
innocent."

"Guilty! guilty!" she cried. "Guilty of my father's death! Read me this
horrible riddle, Lee."

"Wait and listen," said Lee, unable to forego, even in her terror, the
great pleasure that all his class have of spinning a yarn, and using as
many words as possible. "See here. We came by Lake George, you know,
and heard everywhere accounts of a great gang of bushrangers being out.
So we didn't feel exactly comfortable, you see. We came by a bush
public-house, and Mr. Troubridge stops, and says he, 'Well, lad,
suppose we yard these rams an hour, and take drink in the parlour?'
'All right,' I says, with a wink, 'but the tap for me, if you please.
That's my place, and I'd like to see if I can get any news of the
whereabouts of the lads as are sticking up all round, because, if
they're one way, I'd as lief be another.' 'All right,' says he. So in I
goes, and sits down. There was nobody there but one man, drunk under
the bench. And I has two noblers of brandy, and one of Old Tom; no, two
Old Toms it was, and a brandy; when in comes an old chap as I knew for
a lag in a minute. Well, he and I cottoned together, and found out that
we had been prisoners together five-and-twenty years agone. And so I
shouted for him, and he for me, and at last I says, 'Butty,' says I,
'who are these chaps round here on the lay' (meaning, Who are the
bushrangers)? And he says, 'Young 'uns--no one as we know.' And I says,
'Not likely, matey; I've been on the square this twenty year.' 'Same
here,' says the old chap; 'give us your flipper. And now,' says he,
'what sort of a cov