"Time is fleeing fast! It will soon be too late for Gerelda to clear Hubert Varrick and save him from a felon's death!"
Jessie Bain paced the floor up and down, in agony.
Suddenly a thought came to her—a thought so terrible that it nearly took her breath away.
"I will try it," whispered Jessie, hoarsely.
She crept pantingly across the room to an escritoire which stood in the corner. Raising the lid, she drew from it a sheet of paper and a pen, and catching up a tiny ink-well, she hurried back to the bedside. Bending with palpitating heart over the still form lying there, Jessie Bain muttered:
"No one will ever know," taking a quick glance about the room. "Gerelda and I are all alone together—all alone!"
Thrusting the pen in the limp fingers, Jessie Bain dipped it in the ink, and with her own hand guided the hand of Gerelda, making her write the following words on the white paper:
"Varrick Mansion, February 23d, 1909.
"To those whom it may concern: I, Gerelda Varrick, lying on my death-bed, and realizing that the end may come at any moment, wish to clear from any suspicion, Hubert Varrick. I do solemnly swear it was not he who struck the fatal blow at me which ends my life. It was some stranger, to me unknown.
"[Signed] Gerelda Varrick.
"Witnessed by ——."