om the condemned
cell. The Prisoner wished to see the Governor and the Medical Officer.

"Is she ill?" the Doctor inquired.

"No, sir."

"Hysterical? or agitated, perhaps?"

"As easy and composed, sir, as a person can be."

We set forth together for the condemned cell.

CHAPTER VII. THE MURDERESS CONSULTS THE AUTHORITIES.

There was a considerate side to my friend's character, which showed
itself when the warder had left us.

He was especially anxious to be careful of what he said to a woman in
the Prisoner's terrible situation; especially in the event of her having
been really subjected to the influence of religious belief. On the
Minister's own authority, I declared that there was every reason to
adopt this conclusion; and in support of what I had said I showed him
the confession. It only contained a few lines, acknowledging that she
had committed the murder and that she deserved her sentence. "From the
planning of the crime to the commission of the crime, I was in my
right senses throughout. I knew what I was doing." With that remarkable
disavowal of the defense set up by her advocate, the confession ended.

My colleague read the paper, and handed it back to me without making any
remark. I asked if he suspected the Prisoner of feigning conversion to
please the Minister.

"She shall not discover it," he answered, gravely, "if I do."

It would not be true to say that the Doctor's obstinacy had shaken
my belief in the good result of the Minister's interference. I may,
however, acknowledge that I felt some misgivings, which were not
dispelled when I found myself in the presence of the Prisoner.

I had expected to see her employed in reading the Bible. The good book
was closed and was not even placed within her reach. The occupation to
which she was devoting herself astonished and repelled me.

Some carelessness on the part of the attendant had left on the table the
writing materials that had been needed for her confession. She was using
them now--when death on the scaffold was literally within a few hours
of her--to sketch a portrait of the female warder, who was on the watch!
The Doctor and I looked at each other; and now the sincerity of her
repentance was something that I began to question, too.

She laid down the pen, and proceeded quietly to explain herself.

"Even the little time that is left to me proves to be a weary time
to get through," she said. "I am making a last use of the talent for
drawi