"'True; whom I loved as my own soul.'

"'And a brother.'

"'The bravest, the kindest, the most affectionate!' said Lady Bothwell.

"'Both these beloved relatives you lost by the fault of an unfortunate
man,' continued the stranger.

"'By the crime of an unnatural, bloody-minded murderer,' said the lady.

"'I am answered,' replied the old man, bowing, as if to withdraw.

"'Stop, sir, I command you,' said Lady Bothwell. 'Who are you that, at
such a place and time, come to recall these horrible recollections? I
insist upon knowing.'

"'I am one who intends Lady Bothwell no injury, but, on the contrary,
to offer her the means of doing a deed of Christian charity, which the
world would wonder at, and which Heaven would reward; but I find her in
no temper for such a sacrifice as I was prepared to ask.'

"'Speak out, sir; what is your meaning?' said Lady Bothwell.

"'The wretch that has wronged you so deeply,' rejoined the stranger, 'is
now on his death-bed. His days have been days of misery, his nights
have been sleepless hours of anguish--yet he cannot die without your
forgiveness. His life has been an unremitting penance--yet he dares not
part from his burden while your curses load his soul.'

"'Tell him,' said Lady Bothwell sternly, 'to ask pardon of that Being
whom he has so greatly offended, not of an erring mortal like himself.
What could my forgiveness avail him?'

"'Much,' answered the old man. 'It will be an earnest of that which
he may then venture to ask from his Creator, lady, and from yours.
Remember, Lady Bothwell, you too have a death-bed to look forward
to; Your soul may--all human souls must--feel the awe of facing the
judgment-seat, with the wounds of an untented conscience, raw, and
rankling--what thought would it be then that should whisper, "I have
given no mercy, how then shall I ask it?"'

"'Man, whosoever thou mayest be,' replied Lady Bothwell, 'urge me not so
cruelly. It would be but blasphemous hypocrisy to utter with my lips the
words which every throb of my heart protests against. They would open
the earth and give to light the wasted form of my sister, the bloody
form of my murdered brother. Forgive him?--never, never!'

"'Great God!' cried the old man, holding up his hands, 'is it thus the
worms which Thou hast called out of dust obey the commands of their
Maker? Farewell, proud and unforgiving woman. Exult that thou hast added
to a death in want and pain the agonies of religious