the blood on the step!"

"My arm. See. It's not bad.... Ellen, let me wrap this round you."
Folding the blanket around her shoulders, he held it there and
entreated her to get up. But she only clung the closer. She hid her
face on his knees. Long shudders rippled over her, shaking the
blanket, shaking Jean's hands. Distraught, he did not know what to do.
And his own heart was bursting.

"Ellen, you must not kneel--there--that way," he implored.

"Jean! Jean!" she moaned, and clung the tighter.

He tried to lift her up, but she was a dead weight, and with that hold
on him seemed anchored at his feet.

"I killed Colter," she gasped. "I HAD to--kill him! ... I offered--to
fling myself away...."

"For me!" he cried, poignantly. "Oh, Ellen! Ellen! the world has come
to an end! ... Hush! don't keep sayin' that. Of course you killed him.
You saved my life. For I'd never have let you go off with him ....
Yes, you killed him.... You're a Jorth an' I'm an Isbel ... We've blood
on our hands--both of us--I for you an' you for me!"

His voice of entreaty and sadness strengthened her and she raised her
white face, loosening her clasp to lean back and look up. Tragic,
sweet, despairing, the loveliness of her--the significance of her there
on her knees--thrilled him to his soul.

"Blood on my hands!" she whispered. "Yes. It was awful--killing
him.... But--all I care for in this world is for your forgiveness--and
your faith that saved my soul!"

"Child, there's nothin' to forgive," he responded. "Nothin'... Please,
Ellen..."

"I lied to y'u!" she cried. "I lied to y'u!"

"Ellen, listen--darlin'." And the tender epithet brought her head and
arms back close-pressed to him. "I know--now," he faltered on. "I
found out to-day what I believed. An' I swear to God--by the memory of
my dead mother--down in my heart I never, never, never believed what
they--what y'u tried to make me believe. NEVER!"

"Jean--I love y'u--love y'u--love y'u!" she breathed with exquisite,
passionate sweetness. Her dark eyes burned up into his.

"Ellen, I can't lift you up," he said, in trembling eagerness,
signifying his crippled arm. "But I can kneel with you! ..."

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of To the Last Man, by Zane Grey

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