The Edge of the Shadow
charged by the country with his murder and so the war brought on, was not a thing improbable in that day's extremity of passion. To the madman it would be only the slight sacrifice of his life for the immortal gain of a holy war.
My uncle looked at the Justice with a curious smile.
"I think Mansfield will hardly believe that," he said.
The old man laughed.
"It is a pretty explanation, Randolph," he said, "and I commend it to all men, but I do not believe it."
"Not believe it!" cried the Justice, looking first at my uncle and then at the old man. "Why, Abner, you said the woman spoke the truth!"
"She did speak it," replied my uncle.
"Damme, man!" cried the Justice. "Why do you beat about? If you believe the woman, why do you gentlemen disbelieve my conclusion on her words?"
"I disbelieve it, Randolph," replied my uncle, "for the convincing reason that I know who killed him."
"And I," cried Mansfield, "disbelieve it for an equally convincing reason—for the most convincing reason in the world, Randolph,"—and his big voice laughed in among the pillars and rafters of his porch—"because I killed him myself!"
Abner sat unmoving, and Randolph like a man past belief. The Justice fumbled with the pistol in his pocket, got it out, and laid it on the flat arm on
297
