a coward--to look manfully about him on the very
scaffold--an'--an' to die as a man ought to die--bravely an' without
fear--bravely an' without fear!"

Her voice and strength were, since the last change that Mave observed,
both rapidly sinking, and her mother, anxious, if possible, to have her
forgiveness, again approached her and said:

"Dear Sarah you are angry with me. Oh! forgive me--am I not your
mother?"

The girl's resentments, however, had all passed, and the business of her
life, and its functions, she now felt were all over--she said so--

"It's all over, at last now, mother," she replied--"I have no anger
now--come and kiss me. Whatever you have done, you are still my mother.
Bless me--bless your daughter Sarah, I have nothing now in my heart but
love for everybody. Tell Nelly, dear Mave, that Sarah forgave her, an'
hoped that she'd forgive Sarah. Mave, I trust that you an' he will be
happy--that's my last wish, an' tell him so. Mave, there's sweet faces
about me, sich as I seen in the shed; they're smilin' upon me--smilin'
upon Sarah--upon poor, hasty Sarah McGowan--that would have loved every
one. Mave, think of me sometimes--an' let him, when he thinks of the
wild girl that loved him, look upon you, dearest Mave, an' love you,
if possible, better for her sake. These sweet faces are about me again.
Father, I'll be before you--die--die like a man."

While uttering these last few sentences, which were spoken with great
difficulty, she began to pull the bedclothes about with her hands, and
whilst uttering the last word, her beautiful hand was slightly clenched,
as if helping out a sentiment so completely in accordance with her brave
spirit. These motions, however, ceased suddenly--she heaved a deep
sigh, and the troubled spirit of the kind, the generous, the erring, but
affectionate Sarah M'Gowan--as we shall call her still--passed away to
another, and, we trust, a better life. The storms of her heart and brain
were at rest forever.

Thus perished in early life one of those creatures, that sometimes seem
as if they were placed by mistake in a wrong sphere of existence. It is
impossible to say to what a height of moral grandeur and true greatness,
culture and education might have elevated, her, or to say with what
brilliancy her virtues might have shone, had heart and affections been
properly cultivated. Like some beautiful and luxuriant flower, however,
she was permitted to run into wildness and disorde