"There's my diamond pin up the spout at Wingdam, and the money gone to Lawyer Maxwell to pay witnesses for that old fool Gabriel. And then when Gabriel and me was escaping I happened to strike the very man, Perkins, who was Gabriel's principal witness, and he was dead broke, and I had to give him my solitaire ring to help him get away and be on hand for Gabriel. And Olly's got my gold specimen to be made into a mug for that cub of that old she tiger--Gabriel's woman--that Madame Devarges. And my watch--who _has_ got my watch?" said Mr. Hamlin, reflectively. "Never mind those things, Jack. Have you any word to send--to--anybody?" "No." There was a long pause. In the stillness the ticking of a clock on the mantel became audible. Then there was a laugh in the ante-room, where a professional brother of Jack's had been waiting, slightly under the influence of grief and liquor. "Scotty ought to know better than to kick up a row in a decent woman's house," whispered Jack, faintly. "Tell him to dry up, or I'll"---- But his voice was failing him, and the sentence remained incomplete. "Doc----" (after a long effort). "Jack." "Don't--let--on--to Pete--I fooled--him." "No, Jack." They were both still for several minutes. And then Dr. Duchesne softly released his hand and laid that of his patient, white and thin, upon the coverlid before him. Then he rose gently and opened the door of the ante-room. Two or three eager faces confronted him. "Pete," he said, gravely, "I want Pete--no one else." The old negro entered with a trembling step. And then catching sight of the white face on the pillow, he uttered one cry--a cry replete with all the hysterical pathos of his race, and ran and dropped on his knees beside--it! And then the black and the white face were near together, and both were wet with tears. Dr. Duchesne stepped forward and would have laid his hand gently upon the old servant's shoulder. But he stopped, for suddenly both of the black hands were lifted wildly in the air, and the black face with rapt eyeballs turned toward the ceiling, as if they had caught sight of the steadfast blue beyond. Perhaps they had. "O de Lord God! whose prechiss blood washes de brack sheep and de white sheep all de one colour! O de Lamb ob God! Sabe, sabe dis por', dis por' boy. O Lord God, for MY sake. O de Lord God, dow knowst fo' twenty years Pete, ole Pete, has walked in dy ways--has found de Lord and Him crucified!--and has been dy servant. O de Lord God--O de bressed Lord, ef it's all de same to you, let all dat go fo' nowt. Let ole Pete go! and send down dy mercy and forgiveness fo' _him_!" CHAPTER X. IN THE OLD CABIN AGAIN.