was there a landslip came, and
the opening to the mine was closed up."

"There were two ways in. Which one did he take?" cried Grassette.

"The only one he could take, the only one he or any one else knew. You
know the other way in--you only, they say."

"I found it--the easier, quick way in; a year ago I found it."

"Was it near the other entrance?"

Grassette shook his head. "A mile away."

"If the man is alive--and we think he is--you are the only person that can
save him. I have telegraphed the Government. They do not promise, but they
will reprieve, and save your life if you find the man."

"Alive or dead?"

"Alive or dead, for the act would be the same. I have an order to take you
to the Gulch, if you will go; and I am sure that you will have your life
if you do it. I will promise--ah, yes, Grassette, but it shall be so!
Public opinion will demand it. You will do it?"

"To go free--_altogether_?"

"Well, but if your life is saved, Grassette?"

The dark face flushed, then grew almost repulsive again in its
sullenness.

"Life--and this, in prison, shut in year after year! To do always what
some one else wills, to be a slave to a warder! To have men like that over
me that have been a boss of men--wasn't it that drove me to kill?--to be
treated like dirt! And to go on with this, while outside there is free
life, and to go where you will at your own price--no! What do I care for
life? What is it to me! To live like this--ah, I would break my head
against these stone walls, I would choke myself with my own hands! If I
stayed here, I would kill again--I would kill--kill!"

"Then to go free altogether--that would be the wish of all the world, if
you save this man's life, if it can be saved. Will you not take the
chance? We all have to die some time or other, Grassette, some sooner,
some later; and when you go, will you not want to take to God in your
hands a life saved for a life taken? Have you forgotten God, Grassette? We
used to remember Him in the Church of St. Francis down there at home."

There was a moment's silence, in which Grassette's head was thrust
forward, his eyes staring into space. The old Seigneur had touched a
vulnerable corner in his nature.

Presently he said in a low voice: "To be free altogether!... What is his
name? Who is he?"

"His name is Bignold," the Governor answered. He turned to the Sheriff
inquiringly. "That is it, is it not?" he asked, in English, again.

"James Tarran