m and collected. He saw that his
manner irritated Ledyard; felt that it might ruin his chances, but he
held to it grimly.

"So you saw--the papers?" The eyes under the shaggy brows looked ugly.

"Oh, yes. I had them all sent to me. It was very interesting reading
after I got over the shock of the wreck and had accepted my isolated
position."

"I suppose--Boswell keeps in touch with you--damn him!"

"Do you begrudge me--this one friend?"

"Yes. You have put yourself outside the pale of human companionship and
friendships."

To this Farwell made no rejoinder. Again he waited.

"What do you think I'm going to do about it, now that I've run you down
so unexpectedly?"

"I have supposed you would tell me, once we got together."

"Well, I've come to tell you!"

Ledyard leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs out before
him.

"But first I'm going to ask you a few questions. Your answers won't
signify much one way or the other, but I'm curious. Why did you make such
a fight--just to live? It must have been a devil of a game."

Farwell leaned against the table and so came nearer to his inquisitor.

"It was," he said quietly, "and I wonder if you can understand why it is
that I'm glad to tell--even you about it? I don't expect sympathy, pity,
or--even justice, but when a man's been on a desert isle for years it's a
relief to speak his own tongue again to any one who can comprehend and
who will listen."

"I'm prepared to listen," Ledyard muttered, and shrugged his heavy
shoulders; "it will pass the time."

"After the thing was done," Farwell plunged in, "the thing I--had to
do--I was dazed; I couldn't think clear. I'd been driven by drink
and--and other things into a state bordering on delirium. Afterward, when
they had me and I was forced to live normally, simply, I began to think
clearly and suffer. God! how I suffered! I faced death with the horror
that only an intelligent person can know. I saw no escape. The trial, the
verdict, brought me closer and closer to the hideous reality. At first
I thought it could _not_ happen to me--to me! But it could! I sat day
in and day out, looking at the electric chair! That was all I could see:
it stood like a symbol of all the torture. I wondered how I would
approach it. Would I falter, or go as most poor devils do--steadily? I
saw myself--afterward--all that was left of me to give back to the world.
Oh! I suffered, I suffered!"

The white, haggard face held