advice I have to give you
is to pray, and pray continually, till this awful storm is gone by.
Remember, that come what may, you have two friends entirely devoted to
you--my wife and myself."

Hurriedly written, scrawled rather, as this note was, it showed me
again plainer than ever what a noble clear-hearted man he was who had
written it. But this is not to the purpose. Charles Hawker departed,
carrying this, before the others were stirring, and held his way
through the forest-road towards his mother's station.

This same two days' business was the best stroke of work that the Devil
did in that part of the country for many years. With his usual sagacity
he had busied himself in drawing the threads of mischief so parallel,
that it seemed they must end in one and only one lamentable issue;
namely, that Charles Hawker and his father should meet pistol in hand,
as deadly enemies. But at this last period of the game, our good honest
Major completely check-mated him, by sending Charles Hawker home to his
mother. In this terrible pass, after this unexpected move of the
Major's; he (the Devil, no other) began casting about for a scoundrel,
by whose assistance he might turn the Major's flank. But no great rogue
being forthcoming he had to look round for the next best substitute, a
great fool,--and one of these he found immediately, riding exactly the
way he wished. Him he subpoenaed immediately, and found to do his work
better even than a good rogue would have done. We shall see how poor
Charles Hawker, pricking along through the forest, getting every moment
further from danger and mischief, met a man charging along the road,
full speed, who instantly pulled up and spoke to him.

This was the consummate fool, sent of the Devil, whom I have mentioned
above. We have seen him before. He was the longest, brownest, stupidest
of the Hawbuck family. The one who could spit further than any of his
brothers.

"Well, Charley," he said, "is this all true about the bushrangers?"

Charles said it was. And they were bailed up in the limestone gully,
and all the party were away after them.

"Where are you going then?" asked the unfortunate young idiot.

"Home to my mother," blurted out poor Charles.

"Well!" said the other, speaking unconsciously exactly the words which
the enemy of mankind desired. "Well, I couldn't have believed that. If
a chap had said that of you in my hearing, I'd have fought him if he'd
been as big as a house. I