ands, and could modify the
conditions if he would.

"You aren't a Catholic are you, Mr. Lurton?"

"No, I am not at all a Catholic."

"Well, then, what makes you want me to confess?"

"Because you are adding to your first sin a greater one in wronging your
son by not confessing."

"Who told you that? Did Albert?"

"No, you told me as much as that, yourself."

"Did I? Why, then I might as well tell you all. But why won't that do?"

"Because, that much would not get Albert out of prison. You don't want to
leave him in penitentiary when you're gone, do you?"

"Oh, dear! I can't tell. Plausaby won't let me. Maybe I might tell Isa."

"That will do just as well. Tell Miss Marlay." And Lurton walked out on
the piazza.

For half an hour Mrs. Plausaby talked to Isa and told her nothing. She
would come face to face with the confession, and then say that she could
not tell it, that Plausaby would do something awful if he knew she had
said so much.

At last Isabel was tired out with this method, and was desperate at the
thought that Plausaby would return while yet the confession was
incomplete. So she determined to force Mrs. Plausaby to speak.

"Now, Mrs. Plausaby," she said, "what did Uncle Plausaby say to you that
made you take that letter of Smith Westcott's?"

"I didn't take it, did I? How do you know? I didn't say so?"

"You have told me part, and if you tell me the rest I will keep it secret
for the present. If you don't tell me, I shall tell Uncle Plausaby what I
know, and tell him that he must tell me the rest."

"You wouldn't do that, Isabel? You couldn't do that. Don't do that,"
begged the sick woman.

"Then tell me the truth," she said with sternness. "What made you take
that land-warrant--for you know you did, and you must not tell me a lie
when you're just going to die and go before God."

"There now, Isa, I knew you would hate me. That's the reason why I can't
tell it. Everybody has been looking so hateful at me ever since I took
the letter, I mean ever since--Oh! I didn't mean anything bad, but you
know I have to do what Plausaby tells me I must do. He's _such_ a man!
And then he was in trouble. There was some old trouble from Pennsylvania.
The men came on here, and made him pay money, all the money he could get,
to keep them from having him put in prison. I don't know what it was all
about, you know, I never could understand about business, but here was
Albert bothering him about money to pay f