wouldn't get me off, if I did. Can't you see that Fitzpatrick
is going to get me, even if he has to do it with his own hands? I
did tell about going to Peter Rainy in the woods, and it only
strengthened the circumstantial evidence. If I told of the other
person I was with when the shot came, it would only draw out a
flood of revelations, and not in the slightest change the verdict.
Besides, it would bring at least half-a-dozen people to their graves
in shame and sorrow. No, Buxton, even if I could get myself off,
I haven't any right to do it."

Donald lighted his pipe again and fell into a somber reverie. For
two weeks now, he had been in his cabin, awaiting the end. The men
that sentenced him to death had ordained a fortnight in which he
might change his mind, and save himself, if he would. Now, this
was the finish. He sighed with relief. Then, a tender light came
into his eyes. Only the day before, Jean Fitzpatrick, white and
still with pain, had come to him, and had begged him, on her knees,
to save himself at her expense.

"If you don't confess that I was with you that night, I'll do it
myself," she had cried, beside Herself.

And he had answered:

"Princess, if you do, I'll deny it."

But even that had not convinced her, and she had risen with a firm
purpose in her mind. Then, in the supreme renunciation of his life,
he had told her everything; that he was a nobody, according to law;
that her father was merely working out to a triumphal conclusion
the revenge he had plotted so many years, and that there was but
one way of cleaning the slate, which bore the writing of so many
lives.

"When your father has done away with me I think he will be satisfied,
for my father's heart will be broken and all the ambitions that
have carried him to where he is will fall to ashes. I have a mother
and a sister--ah, they would love you, my mother and sister!--and
think what these revelations would mean to them. Disgrace and
dishonor!

"Donald, what about me?" she had cried, weeping. "You haven't
thought about me. You speak of your father and your mother and
sister, but you haven't even mentioned me. Am I nothing to you?
Oh, forgive me! I don't mean that! But, Donald, if I lose you, I
shall die, too. Don't you see I can't live without you? You found
me a girl innocent and ignorant of life, and of men. You were a
good man, and you gave me a good love. And I gave you my love, the
love of a grown woman, suddenly on fire with