“That was the turning-point of my life, Miss Carr, and from that day I made men and women alike fair game. You see what my evil life has brought me to, and, as I do not believe in death-bed repentance, in outraging God and humanity, I will not now, when I can do nothing else, appeal for mercy for sins I committed with my eyes open, and without mercy to those who were my victims.
“As I have lived, so will I die, Miss Carr, without fear. Come and see me executed, will you not?” and Silk Lasso Sam smiled as sweetly as though the shadow of death hovered not over him.
Clarice Carr was greatly shocked at the words and indifference of the doomed man to his fate, his execution upon the gallows, and his recklessness of pardon beyond the grave. But she said, calmly and sincerely:
“Mr. Arden, though I would shun the scene in which you must be an actor soon, as I would shun an open grave, yet, if my presence there could add one atom of comfort to you, could smooth your last moments, as your sister’s loving heart might, I would go with you willingly under the very shadow of the gallows, and be the last one to clasp your hand in farewell.”
The man started at her words and half-held out his manacled hands, while his face changed from its stern expression to one of softness.
“It is just such women as you, Miss Carr, who keep the world good, and my sister is one like you. Had I my life to live over again I would be a different man, but now I shall face the alternative unflinchingly. I thank you for your kindness in coming to me, for it shows a forgiving spirit and sacrifice of self, and my sister will appreciate it I know.”
Clarice could say no more to such a man. She, too, was not one to believe that a man can sin at will, commit the most heinous of crimes, and then, when the law gets its clutch upon him and he can sin no more, when the shadow of death is upon him, that he can turn from his wickedness to prayer, to repentance, as a drowning man catches at a straw.
So she wisely did not linger, for what could she tell such a man of sweet forgiveness, or what could she say to console him in the face of the hangman fitting the noose for his neck.
“If you feel that I can serve you, Mr. Arden, send for me. I will send you some books to read, and if there is anything we can prepare for you to eat we will gladly do so.”
With this Clarice Carr left the cabin of the doomed outlaw. She had done her duty, and, unless he sent for her, she would not care to see him again. Should he send for her to cheer him in the last awful moment, she would go without the slightest hesitation.