tory of Jesus
and His love; that He came to seek and to save the lost, even the chief
of sinners?"

"An' how did he take it?" inquired Paul, with a grave, almost an anxious
look.

"At first he would not listen, but when I began to read the Word to him,
and then tried to explain what seemed suitable to him, he got up on his
unhurt elbow and looked at me with such a peculiar and intense look that
I felt almost alarmed, and was forced to stop. Then he seemed to wander
again in his mind, for he said such a strange thing."

"What was that, Betty?"

"He said I was like his mother."

"Well, lass, he wasn't far wrong, for you _are_ uncommon like her."

"Did you know his mother, then?"

"Ay, Betty, I knowed her well, an' a fine, good-lookin' woman she was,
wi' a kindly, religious soul, just like yours. She was a'most
heartbroken about her son, who was always wild, but she had a strong
power over him, for he was very fond of her, and I've no doubt that your
readin' the Bible an' telling him about Christ brought back old times to
his mind."

"But if his mother was so good and taught him so carefully, and, as I
doubt not, prayed often and earnestly for him, how was it that he fell
into such awful ways?" asked Betty.

"It was the old, old story, lass, on the other side o' the question--
drink and bad companions--and--and _I_ was one of them."

"You, father, the companion of a burglar and highway robber?"

"Well, he wasn't just that at the time, though both him and me was bad
enough. It was my refusin' to jine him in some of his jobs that made a
coolness between us, an' when his mother died I gave him some trouble
about money matters, which turned him into my bitterest foe. He vowed
he would take my life, and as he was one o' those chaps that, when they
say they'll do a thing, are sure to do it, I thought it best to bid
adieu to old England, especially as I was wanted at the time by the
police."

Poor Rose of Oregon! The shock to her feelings was terrible, for,
although she had always suspected from some traits in his character that
her father had led a wild life, it had never entered her imagination
that he was an outlaw. For some time she remained silent with her face
in her hands, quite unable to collect her thoughts or decide what to
say, for whatever her father might have been in the past he had been
invariably kind to her, and, moreover, had given very earnest heed to
the loving words which she often spoke