Alice looked horrified.
"But," continued her father, "I am convinced of the truth of his statement,—that he has never shed human blood. Nevertheless, he has been very wicked, and the fact that he has such a powerful will, such commanding and agreeable manners, only makes his guilt the greater; for there is less excuse for his having devoted such powers and qualities to the service of Satan. I fear that his judges will not take into account his recent good deeds and his penitence. They will not pardon him."
"Father," said Alice, earnestly, "God pardons the chief of sinners; why will not man do so?"
The missionary was somewhat perplexed as to how he should reply to such a difficult question.
"My child," said he, "the law of God and the law of man must be obeyed, or the punishment must be inflicted on the disobedient: both laws are alike in this respect. In the case of God's law, Jesus Christ our Lord obeyed it, bore the punishment for us, and set our souls free. But in the case of man's law, who is to bear Gascoyne's punishment and set him free?"
As poor Alice could not answer this, she cast down her tearful eyes, sighed again and looked more miserable than ever.
"But come, my pet," resumed Mr. Mason, you must guess again. "It is really good news,—try."
"I can't," said Alice, looking up in her father's face with animation and shaking her head. "I never could guess anything rightly."
"What would you think the best thing that could happen?" said her father.
The child looked intently at the ground for a few seconds, and pursed her rosy little mouth, while the smallest possible frown—the result of intellectual exertion—knitted her fair brow.