The street was silent as they drew up to the saloon door, and only Slater and one or two of his friends were present when Bertha walked into the bar-room, erect as a boy, her calm, sweet face ashen white in the electric light. For an instant; she stood there in the middle of the floor alone, her big dark eyes searching every face. Then Judge Brady, a kindly, gray-haired man, advanced, and took her hand. "We're very glad to see you," he gravely said, introducing himself. Williams, who had entered the inner room, returned instantly to say: "Come, he's waiting." Without a word the bride entered the presence of her groom, and the doctor, bending low to the gambler, said: "Be careful now, Mart. Don't try to rise. Be perfectly still. Bertie has come." Haney turned with a smile--a tender, humorous smile--and whispered: "Bertie, acushla mavourneen, come to me!" Then the watchers withdrew, leaving them alone, and the girl, bending above him, kissed him. "Oh, Captain, can't I do something? I _must_ do something." "Yes, darlin', ye can. You can marry me this minute, and ye shall. I'm dyin', girl--so the doctor says. I don't feel it that way; but, anyhow, we take no chances. All I have is for you, and so--" She put her hand ever his lips. "You must be quiet. I understand, and I will do it--but only to make you well." She turned to the door, and her voice was clear as she said to those who waited: "I am ready." "Will you have Father Kearney?" asked Williams. She turned towards Haney. "Just as he says." The stricken miner, ghastly with the pain brought on by movement, responded to the doctor's question, only by a whisper: "The priest--first." The girl heard, and her fine, clear glance rested upon the face of the priest. Tears were on her cheeks, but a kind of exultation was in her tone as she said: "I am willing, father." With a look which denoted his appreciation of the girl's courage, the priest stepped forward and led her to her place beside her bridegroom. She took Haney's big nerveless hand in her firm grasp, and together they listened to the solemn words which made them husband and wife. It seemed that the gambler was passing into the shadow during the opening prayer, but his whispered responses came at the proper pauses, and only when the final benediction was given, and the priest and the judge fell back before the rush of the young doctor, did the wounded man's eyes close in final collapse. He had indeed reached the end of his endurance. The young wife spoke then, imperiously, almost fiercely, asking: "Why is he lying here? This is no place for him."