"You have saved my life," he cried, "and now you are in trouble yourself. Yes, I know you are. Is there anything I can do? Will you—will you tell me what is the matter?"
Deeply touched, Green sank down on the grass beside Cyril and told him the whole story of his life, from the time when, as a child, he said his prayers at his mother's knee to the hour when, with his companions, he heard Cyril's outspoken condemnation of their wicked life.
"All night long," he said in conclusion—"all night long I've been thinking, thinking as I never thought before, and I've made up my mind, lad, that I'll try to lead a different life. If I can't earn my bread and cheese in future—well, I'll go without it. And I'll ask God's forgiveness for all my wrong-doing as long as I've breath in me to ask it."
After a pause, during which Green sat pondering, his horse made an impatient movement, which reminded him that they ought to set off.
"But where shall we go?" asked Cyril wonderingly.
Green replied that his father still lived, and happened to be working in a great saw-mill not twenty miles away from where they were. "If we go to him," he said, "I know he will get me work to do."
Then Cyril asked if Green could put him in the way of returning to England to his friends.
Green felt very sorry for him as he listened. But as Cyril had not nearly enough money, and he had very little himself, he did not see how he could possibly assist the boy to return home. However, the first thing was to get him into a place of safety, for the robbers might return when they missed their comrade, or possibly, relenting, they might come back to liberate Cyril.
Mounting his horse, therefore, Green took up Cyril before him on the saddle and rode off.
After proceeding about five miles through the forest, without any greater adventure than the frequent difficulty of finding a path through the dense trees, they unfortunately came out into an open sandy plain, across which they had not gone far before they were perceived by some horsemen who happened to be crossing the plain in another direction.