room, save for the dull snapping and flicker of the fire, while from the darkness came a woman's sobs, answered by a deep groan of anguish from the bowed form of the man who had just signed his own death-warrant.
The two men, Sir Arthur and Richard, sat looking at Kane in dumb amaze. The former was the first to find his tongue, although usually the more unready of the brothers.
"This is a most extraordinary—er—confession, Mr. Kane," he said. "I presume you are aware of the full import of what you have told us,—and—er—of the consequences," this last significantly.
The culprit bowed.
"Kane, old man," said Bichard, "I'm imfeignedly sorry! I'd rather it had been any man but you. I won't say but what, since we saw old Plish yesterday, I've had certain misgivings, but I was unprepared for this."
"There was,—there is,—there can be no palliation or excuse," said Kane, lifting his head. "The guilty knowledge became more than I could carry after all your kindness and" The sentence was unfinished, for his voice broke.
"I presume you realize that this ends everything, Mr. Kane," said Sir Arthur, with a wave of the hand to where Stella was sitting sobbing softly.
"God help me, I do!" was the reply, wrung from the anguished spirit, "but my punishment is greater than I can bear!" and with these words he left the room, and the clang of the heavy outer door announced his departure to those within.
Stella broke down utterly then, and would not be comforted.
"Send for Marcia!" she wailed, and, knowing nothing else to do, Rick set out across the park to beseech her to come to the motherless girl in her extremity.
"It is too dreadful, too horrible!" said Marcia, as they drove back after she had been made acquainted with Kane's confession. "Suppose he had killed you, as he meant to do, the wretch!" she panted. "I'll never forgive him—never!"
"Oh, I don't know," said Bichard coolly. "He came mighty near it, but he just missed it, you see. If I'd caught him red-handed, or even three months ago, I expect I'd have been pretty hard on him too; but now, you see, it's different."
"I don't see," said Marcia vindictively.
"Wait till you meet Stella," said Rick significantly.
"She ought to hate him too!" insisted Marcia.
"Well, I fancy she won't," was the quiet reply, arguing that Master Rick possessed rather more insight into the workings of the feminine mind than might have been expected.
