They kneeled down, all of them, in accordance with the ancient custom, and Jim began to pray. His voice was broken and husky, but it grew steadier as he appealed to the God of Justice and Mercy. He prayed and prayed; the clock struck twelve, but still he prayed. "Pray without ceasing," Belle's message had said. His gift of speech stood by him now; a quarter of an hour passed and still he was pouring out petitions to the throne of grace; another quarter of an hour and his voice was a little weary, but he prayed on. Still another, and another, and the clock struck one. All those men still kneeled, dead silent, except for a low, sobbing sound from the little group farther off. The Sheriff waited uneasily; he coughed a little and waited for a gap--but there was no gap; Jim bared his heart to God that day. He prayed as he never did before and all his bodily strength went into his prayer. At a quarter past one, when he was still calling on the God of Life for help, the Sheriff knew not what to do, for by the unwritten law the man of God had a right to finish his prayer. At half past one, the Sheriff moved uneasily and at length uttered a faint "Amen," as though to give the signal to stop. As it had no effect he realized for the first time just what Hartigan's desperation and iron will were leading him to do, he took cover under the technicality and played the game with him. Shay would have a chance as long as the Preacher's voice lasted. The party all stood, hats off, except those around the condemned one. They still kneeled, some of them, while others in bodily weariness, were frankly sitting on the scaffold. And the Preacher prayed on. His voice was thick and husky now; he could scarcely enunciate the words. The big clock ticked and two was struck. Still Jim prayed, as one who hopes and clings to any hope. There were uneasy movements among the witnesses. The Sheriff said "Amen" twice again, quite loudly so that no one else should interrupt, but he was under a terrible strain. It was ten minutes after two when a shout was heard from the outer office and a warden with a paper came running, shrieking, "_Reprieve! Reprieve!_" Jim turned to look and closed his prayer: "...and this we ask for Jesus's sake"; then he fell flat upon the scaffold. "I knew she would, I knew she would; Belle never failed me yet," were the first words he uttered when he revived. The Sheriff read the Governor's telegram to the crowd: "Reprieve Michael Shay for three days." As they led him back to the house of death, which was to him a house of resurrection, there was the whistle of a special train followed by the clatter of a carriage approaching the gate. Whoever it was had the right of entry. Hurried footsteps were heard, and short, low words. Then the doors swung wide for--the Governor himself, John Hopkins, and Belle. White fear was on their faces till they met a warder who knew. "All right, sir; we got it in time." "Thank God!"