fellow has in his first year of gaol,
Starlight was just his old self all the time. He took it quite easy,
never gave any one trouble, and there wasn't a soul in the place that
wouldn't have done anything for him. The visiting magistrate thought his
a most interesting case, and believed in his heart that he had been the
means of turning him from the error of his ways--he and the chaplain
between them, anyhow. He even helped him to be allowed to be kept a
little separate from the other prisoners (lest they should contaminate
him!), and in lots of ways made his life a bit easier to him.

It was reported about that it was not the first time that he had been
in a gaol. That he'd 'done time', as they call it, in another colony.
He might or he might not. He never said. And he wasn't the man, with all
his soft ways, you'd like to ask about such a thing.

By the look of it you wouldn't think he cared about it a bit. He took it
very easy, read half his time, and had no sign about him that he wasn't
perfectly satisfied. He intended when he got out to lead a new life, the
chaplain said, and be the means of keeping other men right and straight.

One day we had a chance of a word together. He got the soft side of
the chaplain, who thought he wanted to convert me and take me out of my
sulky and obstinate state of mind. He took good care that we were not
overheard or watched, and then said rather loud, for fear of accidents--

'Well, Richard, how are you feeling? I am happy to say that I have been
led to think seriously of my former evil ways, and I have made up my
mind, besides, to use every effort in my power to clear out of this
infernal collection of tombstones when the moon gets dark again, about
the end of this month.'

'How have you taken to become religious?' I said. 'Are you quite sure
that what you say can be depended upon? And when did you get the good
news?'

'I have had many doubts in my mind for a long time,' he said, 'and have
watched and prayed long, and listened for the word that was to come;
and the end of it is that I have at length heard the news that makes
the soul rejoice, even for the heathen, the boy Warrigal, who will be
waiting outside these walls with fresh horses. I must now leave you,
my dear Richard,' he said; 'and I hope my words will have made an
impression on you. When I have more to communicate for your good I will
ask leave to return.'

After I heard this news I began to live again. Was there