“So he is; I'd forgotten,” replied Perez, and then after a pause, “Why don't he come out?” “Cap'n,” said Abner, taking off his cap and looking at it, as he fingered it. “I've got kinder tough news fer ye. Reub's dead. He died this mornin. I thort mebbe ye'd like ter see him.” “Is he in there?” “Yes.” Perez got off his horse, and went in at the door, Abner leading the way. In the barroom of the tavern there was a crowd of drinking, carousing men, and among them a number of the white-faced debtors, already drunk with the bumpers their deliverers were pouring down their throats. Bement was not visible, but as Abner and Perez entered the jail, they saw Mrs. Bement in the corridor. She was not making any fuss or trouble at all over the breaking of the jail this time. With apparent complaisance she was promptly opening cells, or answering questions in response to the demands of Meshech Little and some companions. But there was a vicious glint in her pretty blue eyes, and she was softly singing the lugubrious hymn, beginning with the significant words, Ye living men, come view the ground Where ye shall shortly lie. Abner pushed open the door of one of the cells that had been already opened, and went in, Perez following. He knelt by the body of his brother, and Abner turned his back. It was the same cell in which Perez had found Reuben and George Fennell, six months before. Several minutes passed, and neither moved. The drum began to beat without, summoning the men to resume their march. “Cap'n,” said Abner, “we'll hev ter go. We can't do the poor chap no good by stayin, an they can't do him no more harm.” Then Perez rose up, and leaned on Abner's shoulder, looking down on the patient face of the dead. The first tears gathered in his eyes, and trickled down, and he said: “I never was fair to Reub. I never allowed enough for his losin Jemima. I was harder on him than I should have been.” “Ye warn't noways hard on him, Perez. Ye wuz a good brother tew him. I never hearn o' no feller hevin a better brother nor he hed in yew,” protested Abner, in much distress. Perez shook his head. “I was hard on him. I never allowed as I'd ought for his losin his girl. I'd a been kinder to him if I'd known. Ye must a thought I was hard an unfeelin, Reub, dear, often's the time, but I didn't know, I didn't know. We'll go now, if you want, Abner.”