“Henri Mekewai.”
“By your orders?”
“No, sir. I knew nothing about it until afterwards.”
Corporal Rand gathered up the sheets of foolscap on the desk in front of him.
“I have your confession here, Mr. Frazer, word for word, just as you have told it to us. Are there any other statements you wish to make apropos of this case?”
Frazer raised his head and for the first time that afternoon he looked straight into the eyes of his questioner.
“With your permission, Corporal,” he stated in a hollow, choking voice, “I’d like to say that heinous as my crime is and black as my character may seem to you, I am ready and willing to pay the penalty. I want you all to know that I hold no brief for myself, expect no sympathy or mercy. On the other hand, I’d like to have you understand, to believe somehow, that here at the last I am a changed man, an altogether different person than he who was one of the slayers of Conroy Miller. Before God, now that it is too late, I am deeply and sincerely sorry. Crime is a terrible thing, Corporal, and if I had my life to live again I swear to you——”
In the middle of a sentence, Frazer stopped short, sank back in his chair and covered his face with his hands. In the deep silence that followed Dick looked searchingly at Sandy and together they rose and tip-toed out of the room. They did not pause until they had reached the path, leading to the river.
“How sweet and cool the air is outside,” remarked Sandy.