riff, in a voice which was not of the steadiest, "I
arrest you for murder."

Abner looked at the sheriff; Abner looked from one to another of the
posse in silence. It seemed as if he were not going to speak, but at
last he did speak.

"Then Asa Levens is dead," he said.

It was not a question; it was a statement, made with conviction.
Scattergood Baines noted that Abner called his brother by name as if
desiring to avoid the matter of blood kindred; that he made no denial.

"You know it better than anybody," said the sheriff.

Abner looked past the sheriff, over the uneven fields, with their rock
fences, and beyond to the green slopes of the mountains as they upreared
distinct, majestic, imposing in their serene permanence against the
undimmed summer sky.

"Asa Levens is dead," said Abner, presently. "Now I know that God is not
infinite in everything.... His patience is not infinite."

"It's my duty to warn you that anythin' you say kin be used ag'in' you,"
said the sheriff. "Be you comin' along peaceable?"

"I'm comin' peaceable," said Abner. "If God's satisfied--I be."

Abner Levens was locked in the unreliable jail of Coldriver village, and
a watch placed over him. Those who saw him marveled at his demeanor;
Scattergood Baines marveled at it, for it was not the demeanor of a
man--even of an innocent man--accused of a crime for which the penalty
was death. Abner sat upon the hard bench and looked quietly, even
placidly, out at the brightness of day, as it was apparent beyond flimsy
iron bars, and his expression was the expression of _contentment_.

He had not demanded the benefit of legal guidance; he had neither
affirmed nor denied his guilt; indeed, he had uttered no word since the
door of the jail had closed behind him.

Mary Ware spoke to the young man through the window of the jail in full
view of all Coldriver.

"You didn't do it, Abner. I know you didn't do it," she said, so that
all might hear, "and if you still want me, Abner, like you said, I'll
stick by you through thick and thin."

"Thank ye, Mary," Abner replied. "Now I guess you better go away."

"What shall I do, Abner--to help you?"

"Nothing Mary. Looks like God's took aholt of matters. Better let him
finish 'em in his own way."

That was all; neither Mary Ware nor any other could get more out of him,
and it was said by many to be a confession of guilt.

"Realizes there hain't no use makin' a defense. Calc'lates on takin' his
medic