"Coward,--you fired too soon!" cried Smivvle, turning upon Mr. Chichester

in sudden frenzy, "Villain! Rouge! you fired too soon--!"

"S-stand away, Dig!" said Barrymaine faintly.

"Oh, Barry--you're bleeding! By God, he's hit you!"

"Of c-course, Dig--he never m-misses--neither do I--w-watch now, ah!

hold me up, Dig--so! Now, stand away!" But even as Barrymaine, livid

of brow and with teeth hard clenched, steadied himself for the shot,

loud and clear upon the night came the thudding of swift-galloping

horse-hoofs.

And now, for the first time, Barrymaine's gaze left Chichester's face,

and fixed itself upon the open casement instead.

"Ha!" he cried, "here comes G-Gaunt at last, D-Dig, and with his

hangman at his elbow! But he's t-too late, Dig, he's too l-late--I'm

going, but I mean to take our friend--our d-dear friend Chichester

w-with me--look now!"

As he spoke he raised his arm, there came the stunning report of the

pistol, and a puff of blinding smoke; but when it cleared, Mr. Chichester

still stood up rigid in his corner, only, as he stood he lifted his

hand suddenly to his mouth, glanced at his fingers, stared at them

with wide, horrified eyes. Then his pistol clattered to the floor and

he coughed--a hideous, strangling sound, thin and high-pitched.

Coughing still, he took a swift pace forward, striving to speak,

but choked instead, and so choking, sank to his knees. Even then he

strove desperately to utter something, but with it still unspoken,

sank down upon his hands, and thence slowly upon his face and lay

there very still and quiet.

Then Barrymaine laughed, an awful, gasping laugh, and began to edge

himself along the wall and, as he went, he left hideous smears and

blotches upon the panelling behind him. Being come to that inanimate

figure he stood awhile watching it with gloating eyes. Presently he

spoke in a harsh whisper: "He's dead, D-Dig--quite dead, you see! And he was my f-friend,

which was bad! And I trusted him--which was w-worse. A rogue always,

Dig, and a l-liar!"

Then Barrymaine groaned, and groaning, spurned that quiet form

weakly with his foot and so, pitched down headlong across it.

Now as they lay thus, they together made a great cross upon the floor.

But presently shadows moved beyond the open window, a broad-brimmed,

high-crowned hat projected itself into the candle light, and a voice

spoke: "In the King's name! I arrest Ronald Barrymaine for the murder of

Jasper Gaunt--in the King's name, genelmen!"

But now, very slowly and painfully, Ronald Barrymaine raised himself

upon his hands, lifted his heavy head and spoke in a feeble voice.

"Oh, m-master Hangman," he whispered, "y-you're too l-late--j-just

too late!" And so, like a weary child settling itself to rest, he

pillowed his head upon his arm, and sighing--fell asleep.




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