tle and
here he found Colonel Playfair and his officers waiting.

"'Now, Sir James, for your last word,' said the Roundhead. 'Will you
reveal where the treasure lies, or will you choose to die?'

"'I will not reveal,' answered the old man. 'Murder me if ye will. The
deed is worthy of Holy Presbyters. I have spoken and my mind is
fixed.'

"'Bethink you,' said the Colonel.

"'I have thought,' he answered, 'and I am ready. Slay me and seek the
treasure. But one thing I ask. My young son is not here. In France
hath he been these three years, and nought knows he of where I have
hid this gold. Send to him this Bible when I am dead. Nay, search it
from page to page. There is nought therein save what I have writ here
upon this last sheet. It is all I have left to give.'

"'The book shall be searched,' answered the Colonel, 'and if nought is
found therein it shall be sent. And now, in the name of God, I adjure
you, Sir James, let not the love of lucre stand between you and your
life. Here I make you one last offer. Discover but to us the ten
thousand pounds whereof you speak in this writing,' and he held up the
letter to the King, 'and you shall go free--refuse and you die.'

"'I refuse,' he answered.

"'Musqueteers, make ready,' shouted the Colonel, and the file of men
stepped forward.

"But at that moment there came up so furious a squall of wind, and
with it such dense and cutting rain, that for a while the execution
was delayed. Presently it passed, the wild light of the November
morning swept out from the sky, and revealed the doomed man kneeling
in prayer upon the sodden turf, the water running from his white hair
and beard.

"They called to him to stand up, but he would not, and continued
praying. So they shot him on his knees."

"Well," said Colonel Quaritch, "at any rate he died like a gallant
gentleman."

At that moment there was a knock at the door, and the servant came in.

"What is it?" asked the Squire.

"George is here, please, sir," said the girl, "and says that he would
like to see you."

"Confound him," growled the old gentleman; "he is always here after
something or other. I suppose it is about the Moat Farm. He was going
to see Janter to-day. Will you excuse me, Quaritch? My daughter will
tell you the end of the story if you care to hear any more. I will
join you in the drawing-room."

CHAPTER IV

THE END OF THE TALE

As soon a