"Besides," remarked Mr. Travilla, "the Ku Klux would hardly dare venture an outrage now. The most desperate have fled the country, and the rest stand in wholesome awe of the troops." "I am quite, quite sure there is no risk in going," said Elsie earnestly, "but whatever is done must be done quickly, for Wilkins is evidently very near his end; may, perhaps, expire before we arrive, even though we make all haste." At that there was a general, hurried movement, and in less time than it takes to tell it, they were on their way; Mrs. Leland in the carriage with Elsie, and the gentlemen on horseback. Under the influence of restoratives administered by Dr. Barton, great apparent improvement had taken place in Wilkins' condition; he was in less pain, breathed more freely, and spoke with less difficulty. At sight of his visitors his pale face flushed slightly, and an expression of regret and mortification swept over his features. "Thank you all for coming;" he said feebly. "Please be seated. I am at the very brink of the grave, and--and I would go at peace with all men. I--I've hated you every one. And you--Leland, I would have killed if I could. It was in the attempt to do so that I--received my own death wound at the hands of your wife." Mrs. Leland started, trembled and burst into tears. That part of the story Elsie had omitted, and she now heard it for the first time. "Don't be disturbed," he said, "you were doing right--in defending yourself, husband and children." "Yes, yes," she sobbed, "but oh, I would save you now if I could! Can nothing be done?" He shook his head sadly. "Will you, can you all forgive me?" he asked in tones so faint and low, that only the death-like silence of the room made the words audible. "With all my heart, my poor fellow, as I hope to be forgiven my infinitely greater debt to my Lord," Mr. Leland answered with emotion, taking the wasted hand and clasping it warmly in his. Foster was deeply touched. "God bless you for the words," he whispered. "How I've been mistaken in you, sir!" His eyes sought the faces of Dinsmore and Travilla, and drawing near the bed, each took his hand in turn and gave him the same assurance he had already received from Leland. Then the last named said, "I ask your forgiveness, Foster, for any exasperating word I may have spoken, or anything else I have done to rouse unkind feelings toward me." In reply the dying man pressed Leland's hand in moved silence. Mrs. Leland rose impetuously and dropped on her knees at the bedside. "And me!" she cried, with a gush of tears, "will you forgive me your death? I cannot bear to think it was my work, even though done in lawful self-defense, and to save my dear ones." "It is--all--right between us," he murmured, and relapsed into unconsciousness. "We are too many here," said the physician, dismissing all but the mother.