But there was no answer.

"Say, laddie," Peter went on, his eyes straining with fear, "they're
moving now. Can you hear them? That's the men who're taking Jim out to
kill him--and when they've killed him they'll kill you, because I
shall tell them 'bout you. Will you help us save Jim--Jim who was
always good to you, or will you let them kill him--an' then you?
Hark, they're crossing toward us now. Soon, and they'll be gone, and
then it'll be too late. They'll then have to come back for you,
and--you won't be able to get that gold I promised you."

Eve sat breathlessly watching. Peter's steady persistence was
something to marvel at. She wanted to shriek out and seize the
suffering cripple, and shake what little life there yet remained out
of him. The suspense was dreadful. She looked for a sign of the
lightening of that cloud of horror and suffering on the boy's face.
She looked for that sign of yielding they both hoped and prayed for.

But Peter went on, and it seemed to the woman he must win out.

"Come, speak up, laddie," he said gently. "Play the man. They shan't
hurt you, I swear it. Ther's all that gold waiting. You've seen it on
the reef in the cutting, right here in Barnriff. It's yours when
you've done this thing, but you won't be here to get it if you don't.
Will you come?"

"They won't--won't hang me?" the boy whispered, in dreadful fear.

The death party were quite near now. Peter heard them. He felt that
they were nearly across the market-place. He glanced out of the
window. Yes, there they were. Jim was sitting in the buckboard beside
Doc Crombie. The rest of the crowd were in the saddle.

"I swear it, laddie," he cried in a fear.

"An'--an'--you got that gold?" The boy's face was suddenly contorted
with fierce bodily pain.

"Yes, yes, and it's yours when we come back."

Another glance showed the hanging party on the outskirts of the
village. They were passing slowly. Peter knew they would travel faster
when the last house was passed. Eve saw them, too, and her hands
writhed in silent agony as they clasped each other in her lap. She
turned again to stare helplessly at Elia. She must leave him to Peter.
Instinctively she knew that one word from her might spoil all.

"Wher' are they now?" asked the boy, his ghastly face cold as marble
after his seizure of pain.

"They're gettin' out of the village. We'll be too late in a minute."

Then of a sudden the boy cried out. His voice was shrill with