I kneeled beside him with no feelings other than kindness. The sight of him lying so helpless and still drove all anger from me. He was my cousin, one of my own family, and, with it all, a gentleman and a soldier.
He spoke very hoarsely and small.
"I am done for, John. My ill-doing has come back on my own head. That man——"
"Yes," I said, for I did not wish to trouble a man so near his end with idle confessions, "I know, I have heard, but that is all past and done with."
"God forgive me," he said, "I did him a wrong, but I have repaid it. Did you kill him, John?"
"No," I said; "he leaped from a steep into the stream. He will be no more heard of."
"Ah," and his breath came painfully, "it is well. Yet I could have wished that one of the family had done the work. But it is no time to think of such things. I am going fast, John."
Then his speech failed for a little and he lay back with a whitening face.
"I have done many ill deeds to you, for which I crave your forgiveness."
"You have mine with all my heart," I said, hastily. "But there is the forgiveness of a greater, which we all need alike. You would do well to seek it."