She had again crouched down on the lower step, and her face was hidden; but her shaken voice was quite clear and resolute.
Durgan was amazed into silence. The sun, in a dry, empty sky, had slowly descended to the dark rim of the Cherokee ridge. Now it seemed to set suddenly, and a cold shadow rose over Deer. Bertha saw nothing, but to Durgan the change in the atmosphere lent emphasis to her statement, and all the combative part of his nature rose up against it. He was convinced that there was no such confession.
Chapter XXI OPENING THE PAST
"Are you sure of what you tell me?" asked Durgan.
Bertha answered: "Yes; I do not know what she wrote, but I am sure it was her confession."
"You don't know what she wrote," sharply. "How do you know she confessed?"
"She told me so."
"Then, even in the face of that, I say she is innocent."