it were possible, more miserable than she now was. But he
was safe and sound, and doing his best to help her--doing more than she
knew, in fact, at that very moment. There was at least something to be
thankful for.

Goddard stirred again, and opened his eyes.

"Mary," he said faintly, "they won't catch me after all."

"No, Walter," said she, humouring him. "Sleep quietly, for no one will
disturb you."

"I am going where nobody can catch me. I am dying--"

"Oh, Walter!" cried Mary Goddard, "you must not speak like that. You will
be better soon. The doctor is expected every moment."

"He had better make haste," said the sick man with something of the
roughness he had shown at their first meetings. "It is no use, Mary. I
have been thinking about it. I have been mad for--for very long, I am
sure. I want to die, Mary. Nobody can catch me if I die--I shall be safe
then. You will be safe too--that is a great thing."

His voice had a strange and meditative tone in it, which frightened his
wife, as she stood close beside him. She could not speak, for her
excitement and fear had the mastery of her tongue.

"I have been thinking about it--I am not good for much, now--Mary--I
never was. It will do some good if I die--just because I shall be out of
the way. It will be the only good thing I ever did for you."

"Oh Walter," cried his wife in genuine distress, "don't--don't!
Think--you must not die so--think of--of the other world, Walter--you
must not die so!"

Goddard smiled faintly--scornfully, his wife thought.

"I daresay I shall not die till to-morrow, or next day--but I will not
live," he said with sudden energy. "Do you understand me, I will not
live! Bah!" he cried, falling back upon his pillow, "the grapes are
sour--I can't live if I would. Oh yes, I know all about that--my sins.
Well, I am sorry for them. I am sorry, Mary. But it is very little
good--people always laugh at--deathbed repentance--"

He stopped and his thoughts seemed wandering. Mary Goddard gave him
something to drink and tried to calm him. But he moved restlessly, though
feebly.

"Softly, softly," he murmured again. "He is coming--close to me. Get
ready--now--no not yet, yes--now. Ugh!" yelled Goddard, suddenly
springing up, his eyes starting from his head. "Ugh! the dog--oh!"

"Hush, Walter," cried his wife, pushing him back. "Hush--no one will hurt
you."

"What--is that you, Mary?" asked the sick man, trembling violently. Then
he laughed