of Polly, Bill, and when I felt
that I was going, and there wasn't any use my being jealous any longer,
I seemed to turn to you. I knew you would come, for you have been always
ready to do a kindness to a chap who was down. You are different to
the other lads here. I do believe you are fond of reading. Whenever you
think I am asleep you take up your book."

"Oi am trying to improve myself," Bill said quietly. "Maister Sankey
put me in the roight way. He gives me an hour, and sometimes two, every
evening. He has been wonderful kind to me, he has; there ain't nothing
oi wouldn't do for him."

The sick man moved uneasily.

"No more wouldn't Luke and Polly," Bill went on. "His father gived his
loife, you know, for little Jenny. No, there ain't nowt we wouldn't do
for him," he continued, glad to turn the subject from that of Stukeley's
affection for Polly. "He be one of the best of maisters. Oi would give
my life's blood if so be as oi could clear him of that business of
Mulready's."

For a minute or two not a word was said. The wind roared round the
building, and in the intervals of the gusts the high clock in the corner
of the room ticked steadily and solemnly as if distinctly intimating
that its movements were not to be hurried by the commotion without.

Stukeley had closed his eyes, and Bill began to hope that he was going
to doze off, when he asked suddenly; "Bill, do you know who sent that
letter that was read at the trial--I mean the one from the chap as
said he done it, and was ready to give himself up if the boy was found
guilty?"

Bill did not answer.

"You can tell me, if you know," Stukeley said impatiently. "You don't
suppose as I am going to tell now! Maybe I shan't see any one to tell
this side of the grave, for I doubt as I shall see the morning. Who
wrote it?"

"I wrote it," Bill said; "but it warn't me as was coming forward, it war
Luke's idee fust. He made up his moind as to own up as it was he as did
it and to be hung for it to save Maister Ned, acause the captain lost
his loife for little Jenny."

"But he didn't do it," Stukeley said sharply.

"No, he didn't do it," Bill replied.

There was a silence again for a long time; then Stukeley opened his eyes
suddenly.

"Bill, I should like to see Polly again. Dost think as she will come and
say goodby?"

"Oi am sure as she will," Bill said steadily. "Shall oi go and fetch
her?"

"It's a wild night to ask a gal to come out on such an errand