examined his rifle carefully, still keeping the muzzle
turned toward the person he was addressing. The latter did not seem to
grow less uneasy.

"I spent some time last evening," continued Roseleaf, presently, "in
listening to a little conversation you had with a certain young lady
living a mile or so from this spot. That surprises you, does it? I
thought it might. I learned how you had ruined her peace of mind, how
you had artfully contrived to make her appear the opposite of what she
really was. Now, you have tried twice within the last hour to murder me.
For this I could have forgiven you. What you did to that young woman is,
however, a more serious matter. I don't think anything less than pulling
this trigger will expiate that."

He placed the rifle to his shoulder again, as he spoke, and glanced
along the sight. The negro half turned, as if of a mind to attempt an
escape, and then, realizing the hopelessness of such a move, sank on his
knees and raised his hands piteously.

"If you have anything to say, be quick!" said the hard voice of the man
who held the rifle.

Then Hannibal blurted out his story. He told how he had been led, step
by step, to hope that he might rise above his station, until the wild
idea entered his brain that he could even make Daisy Fern love and marry
him. He pleaded the disappointments he had suffered, the terrible
revulsion of feeling he had undergone, the broken life he had been
obliged to take up. He did not want to be killed. If allowed to go he
would swear by all that was good never to cross the path of the Ferns,
or Roseleaf, or any of their friends again. When his treaties brought
no verbal response he grew louder in his tone, feeling that something
must be done to move the deaf ears to which he addressed his petition.

"If I allowed you to leave here, you would try to shoot me the next time
you had a chance," said the novelist. "I should merely be giving my life
in exchange for yours, which I do not consider a good bargain."

"No, I swear it before God!" came the trembling words in reply.

"I cannot trust you."

A slight sound attracted the attention of Roseleaf as he uttered the
latter words. It was the sound that oars make when dipped in water. With
a quick glance to one side he beheld a rowboat, in which were seated
Archie Weil and Daisy Fern, and they were coming directly toward him.

"Here are some of the others you have wronged," he said, pointing. "I
will wait to s