eedings were about to be commenced against him Pierre had no
doubt. Since his arrest a settled conviction that he was now within the
coils of justice had been always present. Paul's hopeless derangement
seemed to unnerve that cold-tempered, persistent will.

Pierre never had planned crime without some reference to the future of
his only son. All heartless scheming and precautions had tended to
unrest, culminating in Paul's dreadful disorder. Possibly justice longer
might be impeded, but its course would be none the less sure and
crushing.

Old religious precepts, forgotten in tense devotion to criminal
purposes, come to mind. Odd sentimental moods occasionally are felt.
Pierre keeps thinking about his own responsibility for Paul's awful
state. In the solitude of his cell, he mutters:

"That inherited taint which, through soothing specific of quiet living,
for two generations lay dormant, now spreads its ravages within Paul's
distracted brain. All this is the work of one who knew of that mental
disorder in maternal line, yet heeding not, nor giving care to its
restraint or healing, has slain his boy's reason through tenacious
holding to the fruits of crime.

"Paul's mother gave her life for his, yet I, his father, who tenderly
reared the motherless babe through early childhood, and proudly looked
upon maturing growth, sacrificed all upon the flameless altar of
consuming greed."

At times Pierre's remorse is horrible. He thinks not of defrauded,
murdered ward. Paul's victims raise no spectral hands of menace. To
Pierre all other crimes shrink aghast at this most heinous incarnation
of a father's guilt. He becomes indifferent to his own life. In
despairing solicitude, he exclaims:

"Only that some relief come to that distracted head I gladly would pay
the penalties of all my crimes!"

This desperate man even beseeches heaven for his son's relief. He prays
not for himself, nor cares for personal deliverance. In all-absorbing
concern for the crazed Paul, he dares appeal to divine compassion,
without thought of self or pardon. Strange infatuation! Pierre grows
hopeful, and feels some queer sense of grateful obligation. He slowly
gropes and stumbles, while tenaciously turning his soul's blind orbs
toward this dimly glimmering yet hopeful ray. Pierre faintly recollects
the account of the "Gadirean" tenant of the tombs.

"Paul's case is not so serious as that, but who will pity my poor crazed
boy?"

Pierre thinks of