I saw tears trickle flown his haggard cheeks, as though the revival of
his ill usage was too much for even his rugged nature to bear. At
length, he opened his shirt collar, and exposed a gold cross, of rare
workmanship, upon his bosom, and confined around his neck by a gold
chain.

"This cross," he said, raising it to his lips, "was presented to me by
the only woman I ever loved. I need not tell you that her name was
Julia, and that through all the changes which I have passed, I have
retained possession of it. See, I press my lips to it, and solemnly
swear that I never committed forgery in my life, and that I was innocent
of crime until after I was transported. I have but a short time to live,
and do you think I would commit perjury upon the brink of the grave? Do
you believe me?" he asked, earnestly.

"Most sincerely I do," I answered, for I saw that the dying bushranger
was in earnest.

"Then I am satisfied that I can trust you, and will continue my story. I
was taken to prison, and confined in a dungeon, as a forger. I asked the
amount of money which I stood charged with obtaining, and the turnkey
laughed in my face, and told me that I ought to know better than he the
sum of my villany.

"By a liberal expenditure of my scanty funds, I was enabled to send a
letter to my father, informing him of the circumstances of my arrest,
and vowing my innocence. I received a reply, that I had disgraced his
name, and that he never desired to see me again.

"I sank under the blow, and for hours I lay senseless; but at length I
rallied, when a letter was placed in my hands. It was in the handwriting
of Julia, and with eager haste I broke the seal, and scanned its
contents. It was but another species of torture, but more pointed than
the accusation of crime.

"Her letter was worded coldly, and contained expressions which I little
thought she would ever use to me. She believed me guilty of the crime
with which I stood charged, considered that I had taken an unfair
advantage of her father's kindness, and concluded with a hope, that if I
lived to serve out my sentence, I would always remain in exile, and
never distress my family with my presence.

"Twice did I read that short, heartless letter, before I fully
comprehended its meaning; and when I realized that I was discarded,
believed guilty, I sat down, and bowed my head upon my breast, and shed
tears of agony. I cared no longer to live, and almost wished that
forgery was, a