k by the warder. Miss Falkland stepped out before them
all, and shook hands with me. Yes, SHE SHOOK HANDS WITH ME, and the
tears came into her eyes as she did so.

If anything could have given a man's heart a turn the right way that
would have done it. I felt again as if some one cared for me in the
world, as if I had a soul worth saving. And people may talk as they
like, but when a man has the notion that everybody has given him up as
a bad job, and has dropped troubling themselves about him, he gets worse
and worse, and meets the devil half-way.

She said--

'Richard Marston, I cannot tell how grieved I am to see you here. Both
papa and I were so sorry to hear all about those Momberah cattle.'

I stammered out something or other, I hardly knew what.

She looked at me again with her great beautiful eyes like a wondering
child.

'Is your brother here too?'

'No, Miss Falkland,' I said. 'They've never caught Jim yet, and, what's
more, I don't think they will. He jumped on a bare-backed horse without
saddle or bridle, and got clear.'

She looked as if she was going to smile, but she didn't. I saw her eyes
sparkle, though, and she said softly--

'Poor Jim! so he got away; I am glad of that. What a wonderful rider he
was! But I suppose he will be caught some day. Oh, I do so wish I could
say anything that would make you repent of what you have done, and try
and do better by and by. Papa says you have a long life before you most
likely, and might do so much with it yet. You will try, for my sake;
won't you now?'

'I'll do what I can, miss,' I said; 'and if I ever see Jim again I'll
tell him of your kindness.'

'Thank you, and good-bye,' she said, and she held out her hand again and
took mine. I walked away, but I couldn't help holding my head higher,
and feeling a different man, somehow.

I ain't much of a religious chap, wasn't then, and I am farther off it
now than ever, but I've heard a power of the Bible and all that read
in my time; and when the parson read out next Sunday about Jesus Christ
dying for men, and wanting to have their souls saved, I felt as if I
could have a show of understanding it better than I ever did before. If
I'd been a Catholic, like Aileen and mother, I should have settled what
the Virgin Mary was like when she was alive, and never said a prayer to
her without thinking of Miss Falkland.

While I was dying one week and getting over it another, and going
through all the misery every