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"But but," Jeffrey Whiting hesitated to argue, "men come to you, to confess. Rafe Gadbeau !" "No," said the Bishop quickly, "you are wrong. Men come to me to confession. They come to confess to God." He took the young man's hand, saying: "I will not say another word. You have found your own answer. You would not understand better if I talked forever. Find God, and tell Him, what you have told me."
To-day he had risked his life to save the lives of this man and others for Ruth was quick to suspect that Gadbeau had been caught in the fire because other men were chasing him. Now these two men had a question to settle between them. In a very few minutes these two men must settle whether this bad man's soul was presently going to Hell or to Heaven for all eternity.
One thing and only one thing would now avail Jeffrey Whiting. Jeffrey Whiting would be condemned to death, unless, within the hour, a man or woman should rise up in this room and swear: Jeffrey Whiting did not kill Samuel Rogers. Rafe Gadbeau did the deed. I saw him. Or He told me so.
As they left the other girl standing in the middle of the platform, Ruth, looking back, caught a swift glance of what she knew was jealous anger in her eyes. Ruth was sorry. She did not want to make an enemy of this girl. But she felt that she must use every effort to get this man to tell her all he would. "One rascal, I tell you," repeated Gadbeau. "First he stop all the people.
Could Joseph Winthrop by rising up in this court and saying: "Rafe Gadbeau killed Samuel Rogers He told me so" could he thus save Jeffrey Whiting from a felon's fate? He could. Nine words, no more, would do.
What if Gadbeau there under the excitement of the fire, and certain that another man would be charged with the killing, had decided that here was the time and place to rid himself of the man who had made him his slave!
It was Cynthe Cardinal, though Ruth found it difficult to recognise in her the red-cheeked, sprightly French girl she had met in the early summer. "You saw Rafe Gadbeau die," the girl said roughly, as she faced Ruth sharply at a little distance from the crowd. "You were there, close? No?" "Yes, the fire was all around," Ruth answered, quaking. "How did he die? Tell me. How?"
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