The doctor nodded, and Cain came forward with the tears streaming down his face, "Oh, let me speak, dear Miss Lorry," he said, "let me pray----"
"No," said the woman faintly, "I must talk to Miss Eva. I have much to say. Come and kneel down beside me, dear."
Eva did so, and took Miss Lorry's hand. The dying woman smiled. "I'm glad to have you by me, when I pass," she said; "Mr. Hill, White Robin--he didn't mean to. I was not well--I should not have struck him."
"He's dead," said the deep voice of the American; "I shot him."
"Shot him!" said Miss Lorry, suddenly raising herself; "shot who?--not Strode. It was I--it was I who----"
"Miss Lorry--let me pray," cried Cain vehemently; "make your peace with our dear, forgiving Master."
"You're a good boy, Cain. You should have been my son. But I must confess my sins before I ask forgiveness. Mr. Hill, have you paper and a pencil?--ah, give me some brandy----"
While the doctor did so, Horace produced a stylographic pen, and a sheet of paper torn from his pocket-book. He passed these to Allen, who also came and knelt by Miss Lorry. He quite understood that the miserable creature was about to confess her crime. Stag appeared at the door, but did not venture further. Cain saw him, and pushed him back, "Let her die in peace," he said, and took Stag away.
"Do you want us to remain?" said the doctor gently.
"Yes. I want to tell every one what I did. Mr. Hill, write it down. I hope to live to sign it."