"That young fellow I shot down when you were after me, is he dead ?" "By this time," said Desborough.

"He was just dying when I came away." "Would you mind stopping for a moment, Captain?
Now tell me, who was he ?" "Mr.Charles Hawker, son of Mrs.Hawker, of Toonarbin." He gave such a yell that Desborough shrunk from him appalled,--a cry as of a wounded tiger,--and struggled so wildly with his handcuffs that the blood poured from his wrists.

Let us close this scene.

Desborough told me afterwards that that wild, fierce, despairing cry, rang in his ears for many years afterwards, and would never be forgotten till those ears were closed with the dust of the grave..