Evil-doers, though often faithful to each other while success attends them, are frequently, for the sake of saving their own lives, ready to betray each other.

One of the men had offered to turn king's evidence. Hugh brought him forward as a witness.

The trial went on. The evidence contributed to fix the guilt on all the prisoners. That, however, of their traitorous companion was crushing.

The jury were convinced that Marwood was guilty, as well as the three others. The blood on his coat, and his having been found in the neighbourhood, left no doubt on their minds, notwithstanding all the counsel of the accused could say in their favour. The jury brought in a verdict of "guilty." The judge was about to p.r.o.nounce sentence, when one of the condemned men claimed to be heard. He acknowledged that he and his three companions were the murderers of Mr Maitland, and that though he had not struck the fatal blow, he had been a.s.sisting; but that Marwood, though he had arrived at the moment, had no notion of their intention, but, on the contrary, had interfered and endeavoured to stop them. This evidence was considered of so much value, that though the judge condemned the whole to death, he recommended Marwood to mercy.

In those days a brief time only was allowed between sentence and execution. The three other prisoners knew that they had no hope of escaping, and Arthur felt it his duty to warn Marwood that the Government were so determined to put an end to the smuggler's traffic, and to punish all who fell into their hands, that he must not entertain much expectation of being reprieved.

"I care not for my life; but of this crime, as I have always said, I am innocent, and would die a thousand deaths rather than suffer for it," he answered. "And tell me, sir, who was that lawyer that appeared against me. I heard his name; it is one I once well knew."

"He is a barrister of high talent, the eldest son of the murdered man."

The prisoner, who was now in the condemned cell, lifted his manacled hands, exclaiming, involuntarily it seemed--

"My brother appear against me! G.o.d have mercy on him, for through him I have been unjustly condemned. As there is a G.o.d in heaven, whom I have so often blasphemed, I tell you again that I am guiltless of the crime for which I am condemned!"

Arthur was too much agitated to speak for a moment.

"You the brother of Hugh Maitland?" he exclaimed, "I am his brother. We had but one other brother, Gilbert, who lost his life when a mere lad; so we believed, and long mourned him as dead."

"Arthur! Arthur!" exclaimed Gilbert, for he was indeed the prisoner.

"I recognise your features, although I had not till now done so. Can you believe me guilty of our father's death? I confess to countless crimes, but of that I am innocent."

Arthur at length recovered himself. From several circ.u.mstances which Gilbert brought to his memory, he was thoroughly convinced that he was indeed his brother.

"I before hoped that you might escape death, and now that I am convinced that you are innocent, I must use every exertion to prevent the risk of the reprieve not reaching Winchester in time to stay your execution."

Arthur hastened away in search of Hugh, who was on the point of starting for London. The calm, self-confident barrister sunk almost fainting into a chair when he heard Arthur's account. He, however, soon recovered his self-possession.

"If Gilbert is innocent, I am guilty of fratricide, and shall have contributed to bring disgrace on our family!" he exclaimed.

Together they set out for London. A reprieve, which had hitherto been refused, was granted.

It was on the very morning that the execution of the prisoners was to take place. An accident might delay them. It was daylight before they reached the gaol. They found the Governor in a state of agitation, for one of the prisoners had escaped. He was greatly relieved on finding that it was the man for whom they had brought a reprieve.

"One difficulty is got over," he observed; "but I should have had to keep him here, for he and another were accused, by that fellow who turned king's evidence, and who hopes to get the promised reward, of being implicated in Bursey's murder."

The two brothers looked at each other. Hugh could scarcely restrain his feelings; a sense of bitter shame predominated, however, for the disgrace he had hoped to escape might still fall on his family. Arthur earnestly prayed that the information might be false, and that his unhappy brother was innocent. The prisoner was supposed to have made his way to Southampton, and to have escaped on board a foreign-bound ship.

Several months pa.s.sed away; it was the autumn. Arthur had gone to spend some days with Mary and her husband. He had ridden over to call on some friends at Christchurch. A heavy equinoctial gale was blowing from the south-west. As he was returning along the coast, wishing to obtain a view of the stormy sea, now covered with foaming waves, he observed a large lugger, under a press of sail, standing towards the sh.o.r.e. A number of people were collected on the beach, and he guessed, from the light waggons and horses of which he had caught sight, that preparations were being made for running a cargo of smuggled goods, then often done in open day, the Revenue officers being either enticed away or bribed not to interfere.

The danger a vessel must encounter venturing in at that time appeared fearfully great. He could not bring himself to leave the spot. The reason of the lugger's attempting the hazardous experiment, however, was evident. In the offing appeared a sloop-of-war, and one, he knew, had been sent to cruise after smugglers. From remarks he overheard, he discovered that the lugger was the _Saucy Sally_, commanded by Slippery Rogers. Every moment the gale was increasing, and the surf came rolling with greater and greater force upon the beach. Those on sh.o.r.e threw up a signal to show that landing was impossible, but the fearless crew of the lugger pushed madly on. One instant she appeared with her broad spread of canvas swelling to the gale; the next, surrounded by the fierce waves dashing up madly around her, she lay shattered to fragments on the shingly beach, her crew struggling vainly in the surf. Some few amid the wreck, and casks and bales, which formed her cargo, were washed on sh.o.r.e, but the greater number were carried out far beyond human reach by the receding waves. Of those who were saved, several were fearfully injured, some breathed their last as they were dragged out of the water.

Arthur offered that a.s.sistance which the rough men were little able to afford. He had sent off for a surgeon, and having attended to two of the sufferers, hastened to the side of a third, who seemed to have received some severe injuries. As he knelt down he recognised the countenance of his unhappy brother Gilbert, who, opening his eyes, fixed them on his face.

"We obtained a reprieve," said Arthur. "Why did you escape? you knew I had gone to obtain it."

"I did not trust to the king's mercy; and as I had the opportunity, I determined to avail myself of it," answered Gilbert in a feeble voice.

"Our king is a merciful sovereign; he has ever shown a readiness to forgive when his sense of justice will allow him," answered Arthur.

"But oh! how much more merciful is our Father in heaven; and His justice having been amply satisfied by the willing sacrifice of His dear Son, who died for sinners, He is abundantly ready to forgive the sinner who trusts to that full atonement made for his sins! I speak thus, dear Gilbert, for I fear your time on earth is short."

"I know it is," answered Gilbert. "Oh! continue to speak as you have begun. I knew myself to be a guilty, outcast sinner before I left the prison. What you had said to me sunk into my heart. It was for your sake and for Hugh's more than my own that I escaped; and I came back in the lugger resolved not to partic.i.p.ate in the profits of the enterprise."

Arthur sighed.

"Those who a.s.sociate with evil-doers share in their doings," he was compelled to remark, but he dwelt not on that subject.

"My dear brother," he continued, "we are all sinners in the sight of a pure and holy G.o.d, who cannot look upon iniquity; but He in His love and mercy has provided a fountain in which all our sins, however black, however foul, can be washed away; and He tells us in His Word that though they be red like crimson, they shall become as white as snow, and though they be as scarlet, they become as wool--that He will put them as far from us as the east is from the west. To that fountain which flowed from the side of Jesus when He hung on the cross, offering himself up as a full and sufficient sacrifice in G.o.d's sight for the sins of all who trust in Him, let me urge you to turn your eyes; believe in that loving Saviour that He died for you, as well as for other sinners; that His heart yearns toward you; that He desires you to come to Him and be saved."

"I remember, Arthur, that you said this to me in prison; but I hardened my heart. I was strong and well, and feared not death," answered Gilbert, with a deep sigh. "I can do nothing to merit heaven--it's too late now, it's too late."

"It is never too late," exclaimed Arthur. "The arms of Jesus are ever ready to receive all who come to Him in simple faith, trusting to His merits alone, and not to any merits of their own, or anything they ever can do to deserve His favour; banish such a thought from your mind. By His free grace He gives us salvation: remember the thief on the cross; he simply turned his dying eye on his crucified Lord, acknowledging that He was the Son of G.o.d, and the same answer Jesus gave to him He will give to you if you believe on Him. Remember, too, how the Israelites in the wilderness, bitten by the fiery serpents, were told to look on the serpent of bra.s.s, the emblem of healing held up by Moses, and no sooner did they look than they were healed. How merciful, how loving, how gracious, is our Father in heaven, who, knowing the frailty of poor human beings, has thus provided so simple, so easy, and yet so all-sufficient a means by which they may be saved."

Arthur, animated by love for his brother's soul, continued thus to plead with him, for he dreaded lest he might die in the attempt to move him.

He would have pleaded, however, in the same way with any other sufferer, for he knew the value of human souls.

At length several of the people a.s.sembled round him, and charitably offered to convey the injured man to a cottage at some little distance from the beach.

"Let me be taken there," whispered Gilbert; "there is another I should wish to see, to ask her forgiveness for all the pain and sorrow I have caused her, but do not leave me."

A litter was speedily formed with a couple of spars and a piece of sail, and Gilbert being placed on it, four fishermen conveyed him towards the cottage, Arthur walking by his side, still holding his hand. The men seeing that Arthur was a clergyman, were not surprised at the attention he paid to the dying man, nor did they suspect the relationship.

"I am praying for you," whispered Arthur; "and oh, let me entreat you to pray for yourself."

"I am trying to do so, but I find it hard. My faith is weak--too weak I fear to avail me," gasped the dying man.

"Though it be but like a grain of mustard seed, He has promised that it shall remove mountains," answered Arthur.

The cottage, happily the abode of Christian people, was reached. The sufferer was placed on a bed prepared for him by the good woman of the house, and Arthur immediately sent off a messenger to summon Mary and her husband, as well as a surgeon, in the hopes that his skill might benefit his brother. Anxiously he watched the livelong night by the side of Arthur's couch, and it was with joy unspeakable that towards morning he heard him whisper, "G.o.d has answered my prayer; I believe that His Son Jesus Christ died for me, the just for the unjust, and that through His merits my numberless sins are put away." Soon afterwards the surgeon arrived. After examining Gilbert, he took Arthur aside.

"The injuries the poor fellow has received are such as I fear no human skill can remedy. I will do my best, but I can give no hopes of his recovery; he is a fitter subject for your care than mine, though these smugglers are such ruffians that I do not suppose you will be able to do much with him."

"We are all by nature rebels to G.o.d," answered Arthur, endeavouring to conceal his feelings. "I will, as you advise, remain with the poor man, and follow the directions you give."

The surgeon told Arthur what he advised and took his departure, and Arthur hastened back to his brother. Mary and her husband arrived early in the morning. Gilbert, though too weak to speak, knew his sister, and showed by signs that he understood what she said. He pressed her hand, and a smile lighted up his countenance when she a.s.sured him that she had never ceased to pray for him, and to feel the same affection for him as of yore.

"Those prayers have been answered, have they not?" said Arthur bending over his brother, and he repeated the last words Gilbert had uttered, "I believe that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin." Again a bright look pa.s.sed across Gilbert's countenance, and holding the hands of the loving ones kneeling by his side, his spirit pa.s.sed away. One of his last requests had been that he might be buried with his hapless companions who had been rescued from the waves. It was complied with, and no one besides those who were with him at his death knew that the shipwrecked smuggler was Gilbert Maitland.

Oh that the young could see the fearful termination of the broad road they are tempted by Satan to follow, ere they take the first downward step along it!

The End.

BOOK IV--THE IVORY TRADER; A TALE OF AFRICA.

CHAPTER I.

To the north of the Cape of Good Hope Colony, beyond the Great Orange River, an extensive level region exists, known as the Kalahara Desert.