that knoweth all things and cannot err. Rising
for a moment, a distinct speck of face in this
way of light, the prisoner said, '' My Lord, I
have received my sentence of Death from the
Almighty, but I bow to yours," and sat down
again. There was some hushing, and the Judge
went on with what he had to say to the rest.
Then, they were all formally doomed, and some,
of them were supported out, and some of them
sauntered out with a haggard look of bravery
and a few nodded to the gallery, and two or three
shook hands, and others went out chewing the
fragments of herb they had taken from the sweet
herbs lying about. He went last of all, because
of having to be helped from his chair and to go
very slowly; and he held my hand while all the
others were removed, and while the audience got
up (putting their dresses right, as they might
at church or elsewhere) and pointed down at
this criminal or at that, and most of all at him
and me.

I earnestly hoped and prayed that he might
die before the Recorder's Report was made, but,
in the dread of his lingering on, I began that
night to write out a petition to the Home Secretary
of State, setting forth my knowledge of him,
and how it was that he had come back for my
sake. I wrote it as fervently and pathetically as
I could, and when I had finished it and sent it
in, I wrote out other petitions to such men in
authority as I hoped were the most merciful,
and drew up one to the Crown itself. For
several days and nights after he was sentenced,
I took no rest except when I fell asleep in my
chair, but was wholly absorbed in these appeals.
And after I had sent them in, I could not keep
away from the places where they were, but felt
as if they were more hopeful and less desperate
when I was near them. In this unreasonable
restlessness and pain of mind, I would roam
the streets of an evening, wandering by those
offices and houses where I had left the petitions.
To the present hour, the weary western streets
of London on a cold dusty spring night, with
their ranges of stem shut-up mansions and
their long rows of lamps, are melancholy to me
from this association.

The daily visits I could make him were
shortened now, and he was more strictly kept.
Seeing, or fancying, that I was suspected of an
intention of carrying poison to him, I asked to
be searched before I sat down at his bedside,
and told the officer who was always there, that I
was willing to do anything that would assure
him of the singleness of my designs. Nobody
was hard with him, or with me. There was duty
to be done, and it was done, but not harshly.
The officer always gave me the assurance that he
was worse, and some other sick prisoners in the
room, and some other prisoners who attended
on them as sick nurses (malefactors, but not
incapable of kindness, GOD be thanked!), always
joined in the same report.

As the days went on, I noticed more and more
that, he would lie placidly looking at the white
ceiling, with an absence of light in his face, until
some word of mine brightened it for an instant,
and then it would subside again. Sometimes he
was almost, or quite, unable to speak; then, he
would answer me with slight pressures on my
hand, and I grew to understand his meaning
very well.

The number of the days had risen to ten,
when I saw a greater change in him than I had
seen yet. His eyes were turned towards the
door, and lighted up as I entered.

"Dear boy," he said, as I sat down by his
bed: " I thought you was late. But I knowed
you couldn't be that."

"It is just the time," said I. " I waited for it
at the gate."

"You always waits at the gate; don't you,
dear boy?"

"Yes. Not to lose a moment of the time."

"Thank'ee dear boy, thank'ee. God bless
you! You've never deserted me, dear boy."

I pressed his hand in silence, for I could not
forget that I had once meant to desert him.

"And what's best of all," he said, " you've
been more comfortable alonger me, since I was
under a dark cloud, than when the sun shone.
That's best of all."

He lay on his back, breathing with great difficulty.
Do what he would, and love me though
he did, the light left his face ever and again,
and a film came over the placid look at the white
ceiling.

"Are you in much pain to-day?"

"I don't complain of none, dear boy."

"You never do complain."

He had spoken his last words. He smiled,
and I understood his touch to mean that he
wished to lift my hand, and lay it on his breast.
I laid it there, and he smiled again, and put both
his hands upon it.

The allotted time ran out while we were thus;
but, looking round, I found the governor of the
prison standing near me, and he whispered, "You
needn't go yet." I thanked him gratefully, and
asked, "Might I speak to him, if he can hear
me?"

The governor stepped aside, and beckoned
the officer away. The change, though it was
made without noise, drew back the film from the
placid look at the white ceiling, and he looked
most affectionately at me.

"Dear Magwitch, I must tell you, now at
last. You understand what I say?"

A gentle pressure on my hand.

"You had a child once, whom you loved and
lost."

A stronger pressure on my hand.

"She lived and found powerful friends. She
is living now. She is a lady and very beautiful.
And I love her!"

With a last faint effort, which would have
been powerless but for my yielding to it and
assisting it, he raised my hand to his lips. Then,
he gently let it sink upon his breast again, with
his own hands lying on it. The placid look at
the white ceiling came back, and passed away,
and his head dropped quietly on his breast.

Mindful, then, of what we had read together,
I thought of the two men who went up into the