ised her not to do so. The last thought
dominated her and she opened her eyes and looked at him hopefully.

"Perhaps," she said, eagerly, "perhaps you could not avoid it--perhaps you
were forced to do it."

"No."

"Oh!" she cried. "You did not--you did not shoot him down without warning!
I _know_ you didn't!"

"No, not that," he said slowly. "And, besides, this was his third offense.
Twice I have given him his life, and I would have done so again but for
what I discovered after I faced him." He paused for a moment and then
continued, with more feeling in his voice, a ring of victory and an
irrepressible elation. "I found that he was the man for whom I have
been looking for fifteen years, and whom I had sworn to kill. He killed
my father, killed him like a dog and without a chance for life, hung
him to a tree on his own land. And when I learned that, when he had
confessed to me, I forgot the new game, I forgot everything but the
watch in my hand slowly ticking away his life, the time I had given him
to make his peace with God--and I hated the slow seconds, I begrudged
him every movement of the hands. Then I shot him, and I was glad, so
glad--but oh, dear! If you--if you----"

His voice wavered and broke and he dropped to his knees before her with
bowed head as she came slowly toward him and seized the hem of her gown
in both hands, kissing it passionately, burying his face in its folds like
a tired boy at his mother's knee.

Her eyes were filled with tears and they rimmed her lashes as she looked
down on the man at her feet. Bending, she touched him and then placed her
hands on his head, tenderly kissing the tangled hair in loving forgiveness.

"Dear, dear boy," she murmured softly. "Don't, dear heart. Don't, you
must not--oh, you must not! Please--come with me; get up, dear, and sit
with me over here in the corner; then you shall tell me all about it. I
am sure you have not done wrong--and if you have--don't you know I love
you, boy? Don't you know I love you?"

He stirred slightly, as if awakening from a troubled sleep, and slowly
raised his head and looked at her with doubt in his eyes, for it was so
much like a dream--perhaps it was one. But he saw a light on her face,
a light which a man sees only on the face of one woman and which blinds
him against all other lights forever. Then it was true, all true--he had
heard aright! "Helen!" he cried, "Helen!" and the ring in his voice
brought new tears to her eyes.