d, as had the set of her features. A hard, relentless look
had replaced the one of tender pity--a look which indexed a feeling
more strong than any other in the human organism. She was beginning to
understand now that a crime had been committed, and a vengeful hate
for some person unknown possessed her.

She pointed at the wound, and her voice sounded icily upon the
stillness of the room.

"That," she said. "They have murdered him."

"He has been shot." The parson looked up into the girl's face.

Then followed a pause. Sarah Gurridge and Prudence's mother stole
softly in and approached the bedside. The former carried a tumbler of
brandy in her hand and came to Mr. Danvers's side; Mrs. Malling ranged
herself beside her daughter, but the latter paid no heed to her.

The farm-wife lifted the girl's hand from the bedpost and caressed it
in loving sympathy. Then she endeavoured to draw her away.

"Come, child, come with me. You can do no good here."

Prudence shook her off roughly. Nor did she answer. Her mother did not
renew her attempt.

All watched while Danvers forced some of the spirit between Grey's
tightly-closed lips and then stood up to note the effect.

He was actuated by a single thought. He knew that the man was doomed,
but he hoped that consciousness might be restored before the tiny
spark of life burnt itself out. There was something to be said if
human aid could give the dying man the power to say it. Prudence
seemed to understand the minister's motive, for she vaguely nodded her
approval as she saw the spirit administered.

All waited eagerly for the sign of life which the stimulating
properties of the spirit might reveal. The girl allowed her
thoughts to drift away to the lonely trail over which her lover had
driven. She saw in fancy the crouching assailants firing from the
cover of some wayside bluff. She seemed to hear many shots, to see
the speeding horses, to hear the dull sound of the fatal bullet as
her man was hit. She pictured to herself the assassins, with callous
indifference, as the cutter passed out of view, mounting their horses
and riding away. Her thoughts had turned to the only criminals she
understood--horse-thieves.

The sign of life which had been so anxiously awaited came at last. It
was apparent in the flicker of the wax-like eyelids; in the faintest
of sighs from between the colourless lips. Danvers bent again over the
dying man and administered more of the spirit It took a