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 Temple to pray, and I knew there were no better

words that I could say beside his bed, than "O Lord, be merciful to him

a sinner!"




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