f a type that is fast disappearing," said I. "A few years
more and his class will be but a memory, and then will come almost a
forgetfulness, but later on he will reappear as a caricature from the
pen of some careless and unsympathetic writer."

We had crossed the ravine and were now at the gate, and here I halted.
"What, aren't you going in?" she asked, looking up at me, and in the
dim light I could see her face, pale and sad.

"No," I answered, "I am going to town."

"At this hour, and when you are so tired?"

"The horse is rested, and as for myself, my duty must give me vigor."

"I don't understand you. What can you do in town?"

"I can bear the divinest of tidings--I can tell Alf that Millie loves
him."

She stood looking down, and, bending over her, I kissed her hair, and
oh, the heaven of that moment, at the gate, in the dawn; and oh, the
thrilling perfume of her hair, damp with the dew brushed from the vine
and the leaf of the spice-wood bush. And there, without a word, I left
her, her white hands clasped on her bosom; and over the roadway I
galloped with a message on my lips and incense in my soul.

CHAPTER XVI.

The sun was an hour above the tree-tops when I rode up to the
livery-stable, and the town was lazily astir. Merchants were sprinkling
the brick pavements in front of their stores, and on the public square
was a bon-fire of trash swept from the court-house. I hastened to the
jail, and for the first time the jailer hesitated when I applied for
admission. My eagerness, apparent to every one, appeared to be
mistrusted by him, and he shook his head. I told him that he might go in
with me, that my mission was simply to deliver a message.

"The man has been sentenced," said he, "and I don't know what good a
message can do him. I am ordered to be very strict. Some time ago a man
was in this jail, sentenced to the penitentiary, but he didn't go--a
friend came in and left him some pizen. And are you sure you ain't got
no pizen about you."

"You may search me."

"But I don't know pizen when I see it. Man's got a right to kill
himself, I reckon, but he ain't got no right to rob me of my position as
jailer, and that's what it would do. Write down your message and I'll
take it to him."

"That would take too long. The judge has granted him a new trial and
surely he wouldn't want to kill himself now."

"Well, I reckon you're right, but still we have to be mighty particular.
I don't know, eithe