then there came a low, chuckling sound, as of
laughter, from one of the great grey kingfishers in the tree above them,
followed by a wild, dissonant, shrieking chorus from a flock of parrots,
as if in defiance at the cruel laugh.

"I don't mind your speaking to me as you did, Leather," said Nic at
last, as he turned his head aside to hide his emotion, and he sat down
to watch his beautiful horse quietly cropping the grass, thinking how
much happier the dumb beast was. "I only mind when you talk in your
bitter way.--I'm sorry for you."

"God bless you, my lad!" said the convict, in smothered tones: "I know
it. You've shown it to me a score of times. My life has not been the
same since you came here."

"And I can't help seeing that you are sorry too. How could you have
done so bad a thing?"

"I? Did that!" cried Leather, springing up on one arm. "I tell you I
am innocent as a child. Dominic Braydon, mine was a high position, and
large sums of money passed through my hands. There came a day when a
heavy amount was missing. It was gone, I could not explain how.
Everything seemed against me. My explanations were ridiculed, and until
I had been out here a couple of years I could not see the light. It
came one day, though, like a flash--when it was too late."

Nic looked at him inquiringly.

"My subordinate was the guilty man: the meek, amiable wretch who broke
down in the witness-box and wept at being forced to tell all he knew.
Even I believed and liked him at the time--poor weak fool that I was!
If it imposed on me, who listened to every word he spoke, seeking for
some way of escape, how could I wonder that judge, jury, and counsel
were deceived? But it was too late when I read the truth, and that to
save himself he sacrificed me--me who had helped him in every way."

"Then you really did not take this money?" cried Nic.

"Not one penny. I? But, there, why did you drag this all from me, boy?
You made me speak. I do not say it to excite your sympathy. It is my
fate, and I have tried to bear it like a man. I have borne it like a
man, boy, though it has made me hard, callous, and brutal. Dead to all
who knew and loved me, I have still lived, thinking that perhaps some
day the truth may rise like the sun and throw its light around. Then I
know it will be time to join the only one who believed me what I am."

"And who was that?" said Nic hoarsely.

"She who was to have been my wife. It was her deat