under stars and under roof, and
sometimes I have prayed, Jason. Oh yes, we all pray sometimes. Sometimes
I have prayed for the time to come."

The red had gone out of my uncle's face, and Mr. Lawton was sitting rigid
in his chair, his eyes glued on the slender figure before him.

"And now," said my father, in a tone that was as near to the pious as I
ever heard him utter, "now it is here, and I thank thee, Lord."

"Good God!" gasped Mr. Lawton, in a voice that rose only a little above a
whisper. "Do you mean to murder us?"

My father still stood motionless, but when he spoke again his voice had
relapsed to its old genial courtesy.

"What a word for gentlemen to use!" he exclaimed in polite rebuke.
"Murder you? Of course not, Lawton. I am simply about to propose a game.
That is all, an exciting little game. Only one of us will die. Clear the
large table of the papers, Ned. Toss them on the floor."

XVII

Of all the people in the room, my father alone retained his
self-possession. My uncle's cheeks had sagged, and perspiration made them
moist and shiny, and Mr. Lawton seemed bent and as wrinkled as though he
had aged a dozen years.

"Brutus," said my father, "place the pistols on the table, the ones I
gave you as we came on shore. Side by side, Brutus. The silver mountings
look well against the dark mahogany. Do they not cheer you, Jason? And
now, Brutus, a pack of cards from the bookshelves. It will be a pretty
game, Lawton, as pretty a game as you have ever played."

"Good God! What are you going to do, Shelton?" stammered Mr. Lawton, and
he raised a trembling hand to his forehead.

"You grow interested?" my father inquired. "I thought you would, Lawton,
and now stand up and listen! And you too, Jason. Stand up, you dog! Stand
up! The world is still rolling. Are you ill?"

And indeed, my uncle seemed incapable of moving.

"Perhaps you would prefer to sit," said my father politely. "I have
known people who find it steadies them to fire across the table while
seated in a chair. Your attention, then, and I will tell you the game. On
the table are three pistols. One of them is loaded. The question
is--which? They are all made by the same smith. And yet one is different.
We shall find out which it is in a few minutes. Shuffle the cards,
Lawton. You and Jason shall draw. The low number selects the first
pistol, and is first to fire, and then the next. I shall take the last
pistol, and we shall stand acro