"Poor little chap!" said a rough but kindly voice, as a young man unwound the snake from Cyril's body and dashed it on the ground. "Pluckier than any of us men after all. Here, my lad, drink this." Whilst speaking he had unfastened Cyril's collar, and was now holding a flask to his lips.
Opening his eyes Cyril looked with a troubled gaze into the man's weather-beaten face. What had happened? Slowly he remembered. It was the young man called Green, who had tried to speak up for him when the others were so angry. What was he doing here?
Green cut away the ropes, and lifting the boy out of the bunk carried him away from the gloomy place altogether into the sunshine outside. Then he laid him down on some long grass, and going to his horse, which was tied to a fence near by, got a packet of food out of his saddle-bag.
The sweet, fresh air revived Cyril; the sunshine warmed him and did him good. In his heart he thanked God for the blessed change.
As Cyril ate and drank the repentant outlaw watched him with hungry eyes. There had been a time once when he was an innocent boy like him. Ah, well! that was long ago, and the good mother, whose pride and joy he had been in those days, had been dead for many years. There was no one to care so much what he did when she had gone, and the tempter enticed him along the downward path of idleness and self-pleasing. He had forgotten his mother's God, and had turned away his mind from all thoughts of Him! That was the beginning and the end of all the evil.
But this boy, Cyril, had done very differently. Alone, unarmed, he had been brave in the most terrible danger, he had resisted the greatest temptation.
The robber sighed deeply.
Cyril, looking up, saw two great tears rolling down the man's face. He turned his head away quickly lest the boy should see them.
Jumping up he threw his arms round the man's neck.
"You have saved my life," he cried, "and now you are in trouble yourself. Yes, I know you are. Is there anything I can do? Will you—will you tell me what is the matter?"
Deeply touched, Green sank down on the grass beside Cyril and told him the whole story of his life, from the time when, as a child, he said his prayers at his mother's knee to the hour when, with his companions, he heard Cyril's outspoken condemnation of their wicked life.
"All night long," he said in conclusion—"all night long I've been thinking, thinking as I never thought before, and I've made up my mind, lad, that I'll try to lead a different life. If I can't earn my bread and cheese in future—well, I'll go without it. And I'll ask God's forgiveness for all my wrong-doing as long as I've breath in me to ask it."
After a pause, during which Green sat pondering, his horse made an impatient movement, which reminded him that they ought to set off.
"But where shall we go?" asked Cyril wonderingly.
Green replied that his father still lived, and happened to be working in a great saw-mill not twenty miles away from where they were. "If we go to him," he said, "I know he will get me work to do."
Then Cyril asked if Green could put him in the way of returning to England to his friends.
Green felt very sorry for him as he listened. But as Cyril had not nearly enough money, and he had very little himself, he did not see how he could possibly assist the boy to return home. However, the first thing was to get him into a place of safety, for the robbers might return when they missed their comrade, or possibly, relenting, they might come back to liberate Cyril.
Mounting his horse, therefore, Green took up Cyril before him on the saddle and rode off.
After proceeding about five miles through the forest, without any greater adventure than the frequent difficulty of finding a path through the dense trees, they unfortunately came out into an open sandy plain, across which they had not gone far before they were perceived by some horsemen who happened to be crossing the plain in another direction.
With wild cries the men turned their horses about and set off after Green and Cyril.
It was a most unequal chase. The doubly-laden horse could not by any chance escape the pursuers, who gained ground every moment.
Encouraging it by word and by every other means in his power Green rode on, but with little hope in his heart.
Nearer and nearer came the pursuers, laughing and shouting as their horses flew over the plain.
"Come, Jack! Jack, old fellow, for pity's sake!" cried Green.
Tossing his head, with flakes of foam flying from his mouth, the horse dashed on.
But still the followers gained a little more.
"Jack, old fellow!" There was something despairing now in Green's appeal to the animal.
Neighing loudly, as if in answer, the horse galloped even faster than before. His hoofs scarcely seemed to touch the ground. It was all Cyril could do to hold on to his friend.
"Stop! stop! stop, or we fire!" cried a stentorian voice.
"Jack!" Green's appeal was almost frantic now.
With a bound the horse responded, plunging forward with greater speed than ever.
A shot rang through the air. Jack swerved heavily to one side; then he rolled over dead.