“We must wait until the earth closes over him, then my Dan—”
“There is one thing first.”
He put his hand into his pocket and felt the letter.
“I had forgotten. Beer gave me this for you. But first listen to me. You can read when I have gone.”
“Speak,” she said, and put the letter on the mantel-shelf.
“I’ve said it once before, but you had no ears then, for your eyes were full of that terrible news from the West Indies. By some sad trick Providence willed that I should actually be asking you to marry me at the moment when you saw the fact of your husband’s death staring at you in print. Of course I said no more then. But now ’tis different. Now you know that poor Dan is at rest and is happy. Now you know he was innocent of that awful charge. Your soul is at peace too. You and I have the power to clear his name in the sight of the world. That is as good as done. Only days remain. And afterwards, Minnie? I have a right to ask that question now. Have I not earned my reward? God knows I’ve waited patiently enough. I’ve been loyal to you and to him. I’ve proved my friendship; and if I’d had to put down my life to clear Dan’s name I’d have done it. What follows? You know what I mean. I’ve waited long enough. I’ve been patient.”
“You want me to marry you?”
“You must; you shall. I’m only flesh and blood—not stone. I’ve waited at a cost to myself none knows. I’ve endured untold torments. My passion for you has shortened my days. To hide those burning fires was a task crueller than woman has a right to ask from man. You’re a human creature. You must love me—if ’tis only for my love of your dead husband you must love me. Say you’ll marry me—say it quick. Let my sleep be sweet this night; let care and fear and dread share my pillow no more.”
“Who was it planned this evil against Daniel Sweetland? We know who killed poor Adam Thorpe; but who killed my husband? Find that out, Titus Sim.”
“If man can, I will; but leave that for the present. I’m as set on it as you. ’Tis the task first to my hand after we are man and wife.”