bare boards
echoing to the tramp of his feet with a dull and hopeless sound. He came
to a stand before the writing-table at the further end, and from there he
spoke to her, his words brief, as it were edged with steel.

"Can you imagine how Cain felt when he said that his punishment was
greater than he could bear? That's how I feel to-night. I am like Cain.
Whatever I touch is cursed."

The words startled her. Again for a second she wondered if the suffering
through which he had passed had affected his brain. But she felt no fear.
She kept her purpose before her, clear and steadfast as a beacon shining
in the dark.

"You are not like Cain," she said. "And even if you were, do you think I
should love you any the less?"

He made a desperate gesture. "Would you love me if I were a
murderer?" he said.

"I love you--whatever you are," she made unfaltering reply.

He turned upon her, almost like an animal at bay. "I am--a murderer,
Juliet!" he said, a terrible fire in his eyes.

In spite of herself she flinched, so awful was his look. "Dick, what do
you mean?"

He flung out a hand as if to keep her from him though she had not moved.
"I will tell you what I mean, and then--you will go. On the night Robin
was born,--I killed his father!"

"Dick!" she said.

He went on rapidly. "I was a boy at the time, but I had a man's purpose.
My mother was dying. They sent me to fetch him. I loathed the man. So did
she. He was at The Three Tuns--drinking. I hung about till he came out.
He was blind drunk, and the night was dark. He took the wrong path that
led to the cliff, and I let him go. In the morning they found him on the
rocks, dead. I might have saved him. I didn't. I went back to my mother,
and stayed with her--till she died."

"Oh Dick--my dear!" she said.

He stood stiffly facing her. "I never repented. I'd do the same again
now--or worse, to such a man as that. He was a brute beast. But--I
suppose God doesn't allow these things. Anyway, I've been
punished--pretty heavily. I got fond of the boy. He was the only thing
left to care for. He took the place of everything else. And now--because
of a damnable lie--" Something seemed to rise in his throat, he paused,
struggling with himself, finally went on jerkily, with difficulty. "One
more thing--you'd better know. It'll help you to--forget me. The man I
killed was not my own father--except in name. My mother refused to marry
the man she loved because she thought it wo