"Now come here and hold the candle, lass, and hold it close to my brother's face, for I want to have a good look at him."
Mr. Jabez North seemed scarcely to relish the unflinching gaze of his newly-found relation; and again those fine blue eyes, for which he was distinguished, winked and shifted, and hid themselves, under the scrutiny of the sick man.
"It's a handsome face," said Jim; "and it looks like the face of one of your fine high-born gentlemen too, which is rather queer, considering who it belongs to; but for all that, I can't say it's a face I much care about. There's something under—something behind the curtain. I say, brother, you're hatching of some plot to-night, and a very deep-laid plot it is too, or my name isn't Jim Lomax."
"Poor fellow," murmured the compassionate Jabez, "his mind wanders sadly."
"Does it?" asked the sick man; "does my mind wander, lad? I hope it does; I hope I can't see very clear to-night, for I didn't want to think my own brother a villain. I don't want to think bad of thee, lad, if it's only for my dead mother's sake."
"You hear!" said Jabez, with a glance of appeal to the girl, "you hear how delirious he is?"
"Stop a bit, lad," cried Jim, with sudden energy, laying his wasted hand upon his brother's wrist; "stop a bit. I'm dying fast; and before it's too late I've one prayer to make. I haven't made so many either to God or man that I need forget this one. You see this lass; we've been sweethearts, I don't know how long, now—ever since she was a little toddling thing that I could carry on my shoulder; and, one of these days, when wages got to be better, and bread cheaper, and hopes brighter, somehow, for poor folks like us, we was to have been married; but that's over now. Keep a good heart, lass, and don't look so white; perhaps it's better as it is. Well, as I was saying, we've been sweethearts for a many year, and often when I haven't been able to get work, maybe sometimes when I haven't been willing, when I've been lazy, or on the drink, or among bad companions, this lass has kept a shelter over me, and given me bread to eat with the labour of her own hands. She's been true to me. I could tell you how true, but there's something about the corners of your mouth that makes me think you wouldn't care to hear it. But if you want me to die in peace, promise me this—that as long as you've got a shilling she shall never be without a sixpence; that as long as you've got a roof to cover your head she shall never be without a shelter. Promise!"
He tightened his grasp convulsively upon his brother's wrist. That gentleman made an effort to look him full in the face; but not seeming to relish the searching gaze of the dying man's eyes, Mr. Jabez North was compelled to drop his own.
