d her to the utterance of a warning--she could not
help herself,--and I--I should have been more careful!--I should not
have left my little one for a moment,--but I never thought any harm
could come to him--no, never to _him_! I was always sure God was too
good for that!"

Moaning drearily, he rocked the dead boy to and fro.

"Kiddie--my Kiddie!" he murmured--"Little one with my love's
eyes!--heart's darling with my love's face! Don't go to sleep,
Kiddie!--not just yet!--wake up and kiss me once!--only once again,
Kiddie!"

"Oh, Tom!" sobbed Elizabeth,--"Oh, poor, poor Tom!"

At the sound of her voice he raised his head and looked up at her. There
was a strange expression on his face,--a fixed and terrible stare in his
eyes. Suddenly he broke into a wild laugh.

"Ha-ha!" he cried. "Poor Tom! Tom o' the Gleam! That's me!--the me that
was not always me! Not always me--no!--not always Tom o' the Gleam! It
was a bold life I led in the woods long ago!--a life full of sunshine
and laughter--a life for a man with man's blood in his veins! Away out
in the land that once was old Provence, we jested and sang the hours
away,--the women with their guitars and mandolines--the men with their
wild dances and tambourines,--and love was the keynote of the
music--love!--always love! Love in the sunshine!--love under the
moonbeams!--bright eyes in which to drown one's soul,--red lips on which
to crush one's heart!--Ah, God!--such days when we were young!

'Ah! Craignons de perdre un seul jour,
De la belle saison de l'amour!'"

He sang these lines in a rich baritone, clear and thrilling with
passion, and the men grouped about him, not understanding what he sang,
glanced at one another with an uneasy sense of fear. All at once he
struggled to his feet without assistance, and stood upright, still
clasping the body of his child in his arms.

"Come, come!" he said thickly--"It's time we were off, Kiddie! We must
get across the moor and into camp. It's time for all lambs to be in the
fold;--time to go to bed, my little lad! Good-night, mates! Good-night!
I know you all,--and you all know me--you like fair play! Fair play all
round, eh? Not one law for the rich and another for the poor! Even
justice, boys! Justice! Justice!"

Here his voice broke in a great and awful cry,--blood sprang from his
lips--his face grew darkly purple,--and like a huge tree snapped asunder
by a storm, he reeled heavily to the ground. One of the const