old remembrance' sake. These I took from their repository when
the attraction of my watch showed signs of failing. The child
pounced on them with her chubby hands, and screamed with
pleasure. And the hangman was waiting for her mother--and,
more horrid still, the mother deserved it!

My duty required me to let the Prisoner know that her little
daughter had arrived. Did that heart of iron melt at last? It
might have been so, or it might not; the message sent back kept
her secret. All that it said to me was: "Let the child wait till
I send for her."

The Minister had consented to help us. On his arrival at
the prison, I received him privately in my study.

I had only to look at his face--pitiably pale and agitated--to
see that he was a sensitive man, not always able to control
his nerves on occasions which tried his moral courage. A kind,
I might almost say a noble face, and a voice unaffectedly
persuasive, at once prepossessed me in his favor. The few words
of welcome that I spoke were intended to compose him. They failed
to produce the impression on which I had counted.

"My experience," he said, "has included many melancholy duties,
and has tried my composure in terrible scenes; but I have never
yet found myself in the presence of an unrepentant criminal,
sentenced to death--and that criminal a woman and a mother.
I own, sir, that I am shaken by the prospect before me."

I suggested that he should wait a while, in the hope that time