Denton Examiner, Audenshaw, Hooley Hill and Dukinfield Advertiser. — 1877-11-10 (Denton, Greater Manchester, England)

CHAPTER XL. TAKES US ROM& AGAIN. THAT pocket-book under the old man's bed at Gen. coigne was a sore trouble to Winnie Weston. Winnie, indeed, was not the girl to make the wretched man's wretchedness ten times worse just then, by making known whose the pocket-book was. But she was sorely perplexed to know what was her duty in regard of this discovery, not only as respected her father, but also as to the law. She stood holding the well-remembered token of the sick man's guilt for some seconds in her hand, and presently the tears began to fall, and she turned away. " Ah, miss!" said the sick man, "ye may well cry about it—to think you've been disgraced by a-corain' to see a wretch of a fellow like me." "I'm not weeping," said Winnie, "because I came to see you. I'm very glad I came. But I'm weeping because I think I know the person to whom this belongs." "Belonged, yer mean, miss. He don't want no pocket-books now, where he is, poor gentleman." And the man was fearfully excited. "Be," said Winnie, "if I'm right—and I think I am—you're not a murderer quite, though I fear you meant to be, or didn't care about being one. I think the owner of this book 'a living still." "Thank God! thank God!" he gasped, and tried to get up in bed; but his violent pain soon brought him down again. "Do yeu really mean it, now, miss?" " Yes ; but if you'll let me, to make sure, 111 talcs it with me, and see whether I'm quite right. But I'm nearly certain about it." "Is he badly hurt, then, 'miss? I know he :must  b.. 0 "Very-7e9, very. He has not been expected to live. -Weed, be may not live now. But he seems slowly getting better—that is, if rot right about the pocket-book."  "He don't belong no ways to you, mine, I hope an' trust " • " "••••• •  "I think we'd better not tale," said Winnie, making a great effort, "any more about it just at present. You've already done far more than you can well bear in talking. So I'll leave you now. Only, mind and think of your great, heavy sin, an not too great for God to forgive, and for that kind Saviour I spoke about to wash away. Will you think of Him ?" " Ton my word, miss, I can't tell. I'm not sure I can. You don't know everythin' about me. This is the last and the worst business, 'tie true. I never drawed blood before, so near kiln', as I know on, but it's been a precious black life, miss, has mine, as is, just now, goin' out so werry fast.' "I can quite believe it. I wouldn't make you think one bit better of it than you do—not at all. But I can't alter what I've said. If you're really sorry for offending against God, and not merely sorry for being punished; if you feel that God's anger is worse to bear than if the law had got hold of you, and you'd been put in prison—or something worse—why then, I think you may hope that God is being very good to you, and taking pains to save you. And it's just now you want to hear the god' news I gave you about a Saviour." And no Winnie went overit again, and tried to make it simpler and plainer than ever. And then she prepared to go. She had always shaken hands with him up to this visit. He lay quite exhausted, his eyes filled with tears. She felt that she couldn't—no, even she couldn't—grasp the hand which had dealt what was to have been the death-wound on her own father.  oei "Good-bye, good-bye !" she said; " soon see you again. And till I come, pray and think, till you hear and feel, that you are forgiven. Will you? Good-bye !"