"Yes, I am one."
"And the design," continued Father Capel, "was murder. You do not answer me; your silence is sufficient confirmation. Are you hurt much?"
"I am hurt to death. In a few minutes I shall be in eternal fire unless you grant me absolution and forgiveness for my crimes."
"Speak first the truth. Were you set upon, or were you the attacker in this evil combat?"
"I attacked him first."
"Then he may be dead!" exclaimed Father Capel, and rising hastily to his feet, he peered into the darkness, and felt about with his hands, and called aloud to know if the other man was conscious. "This is horrible," said the priest, in deep perplexity, scarcely knowing what it was best to do; "one man dying, another in all likelihood dead."
He turned as if about to go, and Gautran, divining his intention, cried in a tone of agony:
"Do not leave me, father, do not leave me!"
"Truly," murmured the priest, "it seems to me that my present duty is more with the living than the dead." He knelt again by the side of Gautran. "Miserable wretch, if the man you attacked be dead, you have murdered him, and you have been smitten for your crime. It may not be the only sin that lies upon your soul."
"It is not, it is not," groaned Gautran. "My strength is deserting me; I can hardly speak. Father, is there hope for a murderer? Do not let me die yet. Give me something to revive me. I am fainting."