aughter, Jason reeled
back into the room, and clashed the door after him. The old priest,
left alone in the passage, dropped the foolish candle, and wrung his
hands. Then he listened at the door a moment. The unearthly laughter
ceased and a burst of weeping followed it.

VI.

It was on the day after that the evil work was done. The despatch had
arrived, a day's warning had been given, and four sailors, armed with
muskets, had come ashore.

It was early morning, and not a soul in Grimsey who had known Michael
Sunlocks was there to see. Only Sir Sigfus knew the secret, and he
dare not speak. To save Jason from the death that waited for him
would be to put himself in Jason's place.

The sailors drew up in a line on a piece of flat ground in front of
the house whereon the snow was trodden hard. Jason came out looking
strong and content. His step was firm, and his face was defiant. Fate
had dogged him all his days. Only in one place, only in one hour,
could he meet and beat it. This was that place, and this was that
hour. He was solemn enough at last.

By his side the old priest walked, with his white head bent and his
nervous hands clasped together. He was mumbling the prayers for the
dying in a voice that trembled and broke. The morning was clear and
cold, and all the world around was white and peaceful.

Jason took up his stand, and folded his arms behind him. As he did so
the sun broke through the clouds and lit up his uplifted face and his
long red hair like blood.

The sailors fired and he fell. He took their shots into his heart,
the biggest heart for good or ill that ever beat in the breast of
man.

VII.

Within an hour there was a great commotion on that quiet spot.
Jorgen Jorgensen had come, but come too late. One glance told him
everything. His order had been executed, but Sunlocks was gone and
Jason was dead. Where were his miserable fears now? Where was his
petty hate? Both his enemies had escaped him, and his little soul
shrivelled up at sight of the wreck of their mighty passions.

"What does this mean?" he asked, looking stupidly around him.

And the old priest, transformed in one instant from the poor, timid
thing he had been, turned upon him with the courage of a lion.

"It means," he said, face to face with him, "that I am a wretched
coward and you are a damned tyrant."

While they stood together so, the report of a cannon came from the
bay. It was a loud detonation, that seemed to he