low groan escaped him. But his
thoughts seemed too powerful to be restrained within his breast; for
they soon broke forth again in words.

"Your two texts have come true, Pastor Mason. You did not mean them for
me; but _they were sent_ to me. 'There is no rest, saith my God, to the
wicked.'--No rest! I have not known rest since I was a boy.--'Be sure
your sin shall find you out.' I laughed at those words once; they laugh
at me now. I have found them out to be true, and found it out too late.
Too late! _Is_ it too late? If these words be true, are not all the
words of God equally true? 'The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth
us from _all_ sin.' That was what you said, Pastor Mason, on that Sunday
morning when the savages were stealing down on us. It gave me comfort
then; but, ah me! it seems to give me no comfort now. Oh that I had
resisted the tempter when he _first_ came to me! Strange! I often heard
this said long, long ago; but I laughed at it,--not in scorn; no, it was
an easy indifference. I did not believe it had anything to do with _me_.
And now, I suppose, if I were to stand in the public streets and cry
that I had been mistaken, with all the fervor of a bursting heart, men
would laugh at me in an easy way--as I did then.

"I don't fear death. I have often faced it, and I don't remember ever
feeling afraid of death. Yet I shrink from death _now_. Why is this?
What a mystery my thoughts and feelings are to me! I know not what to
think. But it will soon be over; for I feel certain that I shall be
doomed to die. God help me!"

Gascoyne again became silent. When he had remained thus a few minutes,
his attention was roused by the sound of footsteps and of whispering
voices close under his window. Presently the key was put in the lock,
the heavy bolt shot back, and the door creaked on its hinges as it
opened slowly.

Gascoyne knew by the sound that several men entered the cell, but, as
they carried no light, he could not tell how many there were. He was of
course surprised at a visit at such an unusual hour, as well as at the
stealthy manner in which his visitors entered; but, having made up his
mind to submit quietly to whatever was in store for him, and knowing
that he could not hope for much tenderness at the hands of the
inhabitants of Sandy Cove, he was not greatly disturbed. Still, he would
not have been human had not his pulse quickened under the influence of a
strong desire to spring up and defend hi