Gaither lay upon his bed, surrounded by
these, and it was plain to see that his sands of life had about run
out. He presented a spectacle of dissolution calculated to arouse the
sympathies of those who stood around his bed.

When Squire Inchly had arrived, Bradley Gaither lay a little while with
his eyes closed as in a dream. Then he motioned to his daughter, who
drew from beneath his pillow a few sheets of letter-paper stained and
blotted with ink. This she handed to the minister.

"Read it aloud," said Bradley Gaither. The minister, with some degree
of embarrassment, adjusted his spectacles and read:--

"With this paper will be found my last will and testament. I am
unhappy, but I should be less miserable if I knew I could put such
meaning in these lines as no man could misunderstand. I have sinned
against an innocent man, I have sinned against my dear daughter, I have
sinned against myself, I have sinned against God. I have been guilty of
a great wrong, and though I cannot forgive myself, yet I hope to be
forgiven. John Carew, who is now in prison, is an innocent man. I
coveted his land. In my worldly-mindedness I set my heart upon his
possessions. I offered him double their value. I thought he treated me
with contempt, and then I hit upon a plan to drive him out. I carried
the cotton to his barn and hid it. He knew no more about it than any
honest man. But as God is my judge, I did not foresee the end. I
thought he would compromise and sell the land and go away. At the last
the law took the matter out of my hands. John Carew believes that he is
suffering punishment in place of his father; but William Carew is as
honest as his son, and no man could be honester than that. I, Bradley
Gaither, being in my right mind and of sound memory, do hereby charge
myself with the crime for which John Carew has been adjudged guilty.
Let the disgrace of it be attached to me alone. The sin of it I hope a
merciful God will forgive."

This document was duly signed and witnessed. When the preacher reached
the end, he said, "Let us pray;" and while that prayer, as fervent as
simplicity could make it, was ascending heavenward, the soul of Bradley
Gaither took its flight.

"I glanced at him arter the breath left him," said Squire Inchly,
relating the facts to his sister, "and he looked like a man that had
shook hisself free from a heap of worriment. I hope he's at peace. I
do, from the bottom of my heart."

The confession was recei