"The same sun, Margaret, will shine upon us both. He will visit you while I am asleep, and me when you are at rest. The same God who causes him to shine upon us all will be, as he is, alike merciful to us both, though we live in different lands. Let me entreat you, as my last solemn injunction, never to forget your duty to Him. Read your Bible whenever you can. You will have much time and opportunity upon your voyage, and I hope you will employ them to the best purposes. You will find in your chest many good books. They will be a great source of comfort to you." "Oh! that I will, dear lady! and when I think of you who gave them to me, and of the dear friends who have visited me, and of that good lady you introduced to my cell, Mrs. Sleorgin, who brought me yesterday this packet of books. Oh! how dearly shall I desire to see you and them!" "Think, too, Margaret, what pleasure it will give us all to hear that you are doing well, that all the instructions of your kind friends have not failed. You will be able to add greatly to my comfort by this. You will also add to my knowledge many things of which I have at present very imperfect information. You will inform me of the state of that new country. Surely this will give you some pleasure, and profit me also." "Dear lady! you are so good! You make me almost wish to live, if only for the pleasure of serving you. If it were but permitted me to come to England once more, I do think my journey would seem nothing to me. It looks such a dreary prospect to be deprived of all whom we love, that I feel faint at the idea of loneliness in a foreign land." "Exercise your faith, Margaret, and you will never be alone. All lands will be pleasant to you." "None so pleasant as my own: but I will try, I do try, I will hope. You are so kind to me, my dear mistress! Give my duty to my good master; my love to all the dear, dear children. Oh! forgive me, my dear lady! I cannot help crying; tears do me good." Those friends (for so, in spite of the difference in their station and their character, we must venture to call them) parted from each other for the last time on earth; but they lived to correspond, by letter, for many years after, and both felt an increased interest for each other's happiness. The hour of Margaret's departure arrived. The worthy chaplain was the last person whom Margaret saw in the cell of her prison. Her uncle and aunt Leader saw her the day before. The worthy chaplain presented her with the remainder of the judge's present. She had long learned to look upon his sentence in a different light to that in which she had once viewed it; and now, with feelings greatly subdued, she knelt with the good chaplain, and prayed earnestly that she might never forget the lessons he had given her. She prayed fervently for pardon for all her sins, and that she might for ever leave them behind her, and thenceforth lead a new and better life. Then, turning to Mr. Sharp, she said--