escape. Yet is she exceeding fair
and comely, and now that it is unavailing, appeareth to be penitent."

I made no reply; we had arrived at the gate of the barracks. I
requested to be admitted to the prisoner, and the doors were unbarred.
Tom was dressed with great care and cleanliness in white trousers and
shirt and waistcoat, but his coat lay on the table; he would not put it
on. He extended his hand towards me with a faint smile.

"It's all over now, Jacob; and there is no hope that I am aware of, and
I have made up my mind to die; but I wish these last farewells were
over, for they unman me. I hope you are well, sir," continued Tom to
the Dominie.

"Nay, my poor boy, I am as well as age and infirmity will permit, and
why should I complain when I see youth, health, and strength about to be
sacrificed; and many made miserable, when many might be made so happy?"
And the Dominie blew his nose, the trumpet sound of which re-echoed
through the cell, so as to induce the sentry to look through the bars.

"They are all here, Tom," said I. "Would you like to see them now?"

"Yes; the sooner it is over the better."

"Will you see your father and mother first?"

"Yes," replied Tom, in a faltering tone.

I went out, and returned with the old woman on my arm, followed by old
Tom, who stumped after me with the assistance of his stick. Poor old
Mrs Beazeley fell on her son's neck, sobbing convulsively.

"My boy--my boy--my dear, dear boy!" said she at last, and she looked up
steadfastly in his face. "My God! he'll be dead to-morrow!"

Her head again sank on his shoulder, and her sobs were choking her. Tom
kissed his mother's forehead as the tears coursed down his cheeks, and
motioned me to take her away. I placed her down on the floor, where she
remained silent, moving her head up and down with a slow motion, her
face buried in her shawl. It was but now and then that you heard a
convulsive drawing of her breath. Old Tom had remained a silent but
agitated spectator of the scene. Every muscle in his weather-beaten
countenance twitched convulsively, and the tears at last forced their
way through the deep furrows on his cheeks. Tom, as soon as his mother
was removed, took his father by the hand, and they sat down together.

"You are not angry with me, father, for deserting?"

"No, my boy, no; I was angry with you for 'listing, but not for
deserting. What business had you with the pipeclay? But I do think I
h