rtain State. It may not
be he. Another man may bear the same name, but new life has
entered my veins since I saw it. Last night I dreamed I had
my hand on his throat.

_December, 187-._

I have found him! From this hill-top where I am sitting I
see the town where he lives in comfort and honor--the very
house that shelters him. The smoke of his fire comes up to
me. It is a bitter cold day, and I have eaten nothing, but I
feel neither cold nor hunger. From the day when I started on
this last sure trail everything has been against me. I have
been sick; I have found no work; I have begged my bread; I
have been hunted for the crimes of others; I have borne
abuse, scorn, insult. The very lowest depth of misery and
humiliation has been reached. But that is all nothing: my
purpose is to be accomplished. The end is near.

I reached this spot to-day at noon, and sat down here to
rest a bit before going down into the town to make assurance
sure. Soon after, a party of children came up the hill with
their sleds. When they saw me they ran, except one little
lass of seven or eight. She stood still and looked at me, as
if too scared to move. I know I am terrible to look at--I
have seen my face in pools of water as I drank--but I would
not fright the child, and I tried to make my voice gentle as
I said:

"Don't be scared, little one; I won't hurt you."

Just then the sun came out of a cloud and struck across her
face and hair. I cried out, I could not help it. It was
Barbara's face and hair, but the eyes were _his_.

"Stop!" I said, as the child started off. "What is your
name?"

"Barbara," she answered, and then: "If you are hungry," she
said, "mamma will give you something to eat. We live down
yonder in the brown cottage."

I stared at her, shutting my teeth together.

"Maybe papa would give you some money," she said again. "He
is such a good man, my papa is."

I burst into a laugh. The little lass's fear came back, and
she turned and ran away.

I have not moved from the spot since she left me. I have
carefully cleaned and loaded the weapon I have carried so
long--the instrument in my hand of God's vengeance. Before
another sun rises it will be over.

I sit and look at the cottage the