rnestly, "but whatever is done must be done quickly, for Wilkins is
evidently very near his end; may, perhaps, expire before we arrive, even
though we make all haste."

At that there was a general, hurried movement, and in less time than it
takes to tell it, they were on their way; Mrs. Leland in the carriage
with Elsie, and the gentlemen on horseback.

Under the influence of restoratives administered by Dr. Barton, great
apparent improvement had taken place in Wilkins' condition; he was in
less pain, breathed more freely, and spoke with less difficulty.

At sight of his visitors his pale face flushed slightly, and an
expression of regret and mortification swept over his features.

"Thank you all for coming;" he said feebly. "Please be seated. I am at
the very brink of the grave, and--and I would go at peace with all men.
I--I've hated you every one. And you--Leland, I would have killed if I
could. It was in the attempt to do so that I--received my own death
wound at the hands of your wife."

Mrs. Leland started, trembled and burst into tears. That part of the
story Elsie had omitted, and she now heard it for the first time.

"Don't be disturbed," he said, "you were doing right--in defending
yourself, husband and children."

"Yes, yes," she sobbed, "but oh, I would save you now if I could! Can
nothing be done?"

He shook his head sadly. "Will you, can you all forgive me?" he asked in
tones so faint and low, that only the death-like silence of the room
made the words audible.

"With all my heart, my poor fellow, as I hope to be forgiven my
infinitely greater debt to my Lord," Mr. Leland answered with emotion,
taking the wasted hand and clasping it warmly in his.

Foster was deeply touched. "God bless you for the words," he whispered.
"How I've been mistaken in you, sir!"

His eyes sought the faces of Dinsmore and Travilla, and drawing near the
bed, each took his hand in turn and gave him the same assurance he had
already received from Leland.

Then the last named said, "I ask your forgiveness, Foster, for any
exasperating word I may have spoken, or anything else I have done to
rouse unkind feelings toward me."

In reply the dying man pressed Leland's hand in moved silence.

Mrs. Leland rose impetuously and dropped on her knees at the bedside.
"And me!" she cried, with a gush of tears, "will you forgive me your
death? I cannot bear to think it was my work, even though done in lawful
self-defense, and to s