ellow as he was, would not permit this without due
formality. He had the governor of the gaol brought to the cell, and Mosk
with a laugh signed the confession which condemned him in the presence
of two witnesses. The governor took it away with him, and again left
Baltic and the murderer alone. They eyed one another.

'Now that I know all--' began Baltic.

'Y' don't know all,' interrupted Mosk, with a taunting laugh; 'there's
sumthin' I ain't told y', an' I ain't agoin' to tell.'

'You have confessed your sin, that is enough for me. God is softening
your hard heart. Grace is coming to your soul. My brother! my brother!
let us pray.'

'Sha'n't! Leave me alone, can't y'?'

Baltic fell on his knees. 'Oh, merciful God, have pity upon this most
unhappy man sunk in the pit of sin. Let the Redeemer, Thy only begotten
Son, stretch out His saving--'

Mosk began to sing a comic song in a harsh voice.

'His saving hand, oh God, to drag this poor soul from perdition. Let him
call upon Thy most Holy Name out of the low dungeon. Cut him not off in
the--'

'Stop! stop!' shrieked the unhappy man, with his fingers in his ears,
'oh, stop!'

'His sins are as scarlet, but the precious blood of the Lamb will bleach
them whiter than fine wool. Have mercy, Heavenly Father--'

Mosk, over-wrought and worn out, began to sob hysterically. At the sound
of that grief Baltic sprang to his feet and laid a heavy hand on the
shoulder of the sinner.

'On your knees! on your knees, my brother,' he cried in trumpet tones,
with flashing eyes, 'implore mercy before the Great White Throne. Now is
the time for repentance. God pity you! Christ save you! Satan loose
you!' And he forced the man on to his knees. 'Down in Christ's name.'

A choking, strangled cry escaped from the murderer, and his body pitched
forward heavily on the cold stones. Baltic continued to pray.

CHAPTER XXXVI

THE REBELLION OF MRS PENDLE

'Thank God!' said the bishop, when he heard from Gabriel's lips that the
criminal, who knew his secret, had promised to be silent, 'at last I can
breathe freely; but what a price to pay for our safety--what a price!'

'Do you mean my marriage to Bell?' asked Gabriel, steadily.

'Yes! If she was undesirable before, she is more so now. So far as I
have seen her I do not think she is the wife for you; and as the
daughter of that blood-stained man--oh, Gabriel, my son! how can I
consent that you should take her to your bosom?'