"Is that you, Jim?" he muttered feebly. "It's all dark and cold!—I can't see!—there'll be a frost to-night, and the lambs must be watched a bit—I'm afraid I can't help you, Jim—not to-night! Wanting comfort, did you say? Ay!—plenty wanting that, but I'm past giving it, my boy! I'm done."
He drew a struggling breath with pain and difficulty.
"You see, Jim, I've killed a man!" he went on, gaspingly—"And—and—I've no money—we all share and share alike in camp—it won't be worth any one's while to find excuses for me. They'd shut me up in prison if I lived—but now—God's my judge! And He's merciful—He's giving me my liberty!"
His eyelids fell wearily, and a shadow, dark at first, and then lightening into an ivory pallor, began to cover his features like a fine mask, at sight of which the girls, Elizabeth and Grace, with their mother, knelt down and hid their faces. Every one in the room knelt too, and there was a profound stillness. Tom's breathing grew heavier and more laboured,—once they made an attempt to lift the weight of his child's dead body from his breast, but his hands were clenched upon it convulsively and they could not loosen his hold. All at once Elizabeth lifted her head and prayed aloud—
"O God, have mercy on our poor friend Tom, and help him through the Valley of the Shadow! Grant him Thy forgiveness for all his sins, and let him find——" here she broke down and sobbed pitifully,—then between her tears she finished her petition—"Let him find his little child with Thee!"
A low and solemn "Amen" was the response to her prayer from all present, and suddenly Tom opened his eyes with a surprised bright look.
"Is Kiddie all right?" he asked.
"Yes, Tom!" It was Elizabeth who answered, bending over him—"Kiddie's all right! He's fast asleep in your arms."
"So he is!" And the brilliancy in Tom's eyes grew still more radiant, while with one hand he caressed the thick dark curls that clustered on the head of his dead boy—"Poor little chap! Tired out, and so am I! It's very cold surely!"
"Yes, Tom, it is. Very cold!"