d
this.

Bertha's blood chilled with dismay. Her throat filled and her bosom
swelled with the effort she made at self-control, and Williams, watching
her with bright eyes of admiration, hurried on to the end. "Everything
is ready. There is a priest, if you want him, and Judge Brady with a
civil ceremony, if that will please you better, or we'll get a
Protestant minister; it's for you to say. Only the knot must be tied
good and tight. I told the boys you'd take a priest for Mart's sake. He
says: 'Make it water-proof.' He means so that no will-breaking brothers
or cousins can stack the cards agin you. And now it's up to you, little
sister. He has only a few hours anyway, and I don't see that you can
refuse, specially as it makes his dying--" He stopped there.

The street was silent as they drew up to the saloon door, and only
Slater and one or two of his friends were present when Bertha walked
into the bar-room, erect as a boy, her calm, sweet face ashen white in
the electric light. For an instant; she stood there in the middle of the
floor alone, her big dark eyes searching every face. Then Judge Brady, a
kindly, gray-haired man, advanced, and took her hand. "We're very glad
to see you," he gravely said, introducing himself. Williams, who had
entered the inner room, returned instantly to say: "Come, he's waiting."

Without a word the bride entered the presence of her groom, and the
doctor, bending low to the gambler, said: "Be careful now, Mart. Don't
try to rise. Be perfectly still. Bertie has come."

Haney turned with a smile--a tender, humorous smile--and whispered:
"Bertie, acushla mavourneen, come to me!"

Then the watchers withdrew, leaving them alone, and the girl, bending
above him, kissed him. "Oh, Captain, can't I do something? I _must_ do
something."

"Yes, darlin', ye can. You can marry me this minute, and ye shall. I'm
dyin', girl--so the doctor says. I don't feel it that way; but, anyhow,
we take no chances. All I have is for you, and so--"

She put her hand ever his lips. "You must be quiet. I understand, and I
will do it--but only to make you well." She turned to the door, and her
voice was clear as she said to those who waited: "I am ready."

"Will you have Father Kearney?" asked Williams.

She turned towards Haney. "Just as he says."

The stricken miner, ghastly with the pain brought on by movement,
responded to the doctor's question, only by a whisper: "The
priest--first."

The girl heard