So the mystery of the Major's murder was solved at last, and Sir Henry, as he thought it over in his chamber that night, realized that he had received the greatest tribute that mortal man could pay to his acting. His art had been so perfect—he had appeared the incarnation of terror, remorse, and retribution—that to that struggling soul he had been as the voice of conscience,—nay, as the very voice of God. For the man had actually given way, broken down, and confessed a secret crime under the mighty spell of his acting, and, as the criminal in the play, had died in the confession!
Out of the West
"The sun sets fair in that Western land,
Romance rides over the plains;
There hearts are gay at the close of day,—
Man's duty's done, God reigns."
Warren Giles
IN OKLAHOMA
AN IDYL OF THE PRAIRIE IN THREE FLIGHTS