fall into despair. But he was with him at the moment, and his
bearing left no ground for anxiety. A gleam of gladness from below
the horizon of his spirit, shot up, like the aurora of a heavenly
morning, over the sky of his countenance. He glanced at his friend,
smiled, and said,

"It has killed me too, and that is a comfort."

The curate only looked his reply.

"They say," resumed Leopold, after a while, "that God takes the will
for the deed:--do you think so?"

"Certainly, if it be a true, genuine will."

"I am sure I meant to give myself up," said Leopold. "I had not the
slightest idea they were fooling me. I know it now, but what can I
do? I am so weak, I should only die on the way."

He tried to rise, but fell back in the chair.

"Oh!" he sighed, "isn't it good of God to let me die! Who knows what
he may do for me on the other side! Who can tell what the bounty of
a God like Jesus may be!"

A vision arose before the mind's eye of the curate:--Emmeline
kneeling for Leopold's forgiveness; but he wisely held his peace.
The comforter of the sinner must come from the forgiveness of God,
not from the favourable judgment of man mitigating the harshness of
his judgment of himself. Wingfold's business was to start him well