“I went. Fear, Mon Pere, fear is the father of all. I went because there was that knife before my eyes. I believe that good girl followed into the high hills, hoping, maybe, to bring me back at the last moment. I do not know.
“I went because I must go. I must be there in case any one should see. If any of us that went was to be caught, I was to be caught. I must be seen. I must be known to have been there. If any one was to be punished, I was that one. Rogers must be free, do you see. I would have to take the blame. I would not dare to speak.
“Through the night we skulked by Bald Mountain. We were seven. And of the seven I alone 179 was to take the blame. They would swear it upon me. I knew.
“Never once did Rogers let me get beyond the reach of his tongue. And his speech was, ‘You owe me this. Now you must pay.’
“In the first light the torches were got ready. We scattered along the fringe of the highest trees. Rogers kept me with him. A moment he went out into the clearing. Then he came running back. He had seen other men watching for us. I ran a little way. He came running behind with a lighted torch, setting fire as he ran. He yelled to me to light my torch. Again I ran, deeper into the wood. Again he came after me, the red flare of the fire running after him.
“Mon Dieu! The red flare of the fire in the wood! The red rush of fire in the air! The red flame of fire in my heart! Fear! Hate! Fire!” With a terrible convulsion the man drew himself up in the Bishop’s arms, gazing wildly at the fire all about them, and screaming:
“On my knee I dropped and shot him, shot Rogers when he stopped!”
He fell back as the scream died in his throat.
The Bishop began the words of the Absolution. Some whisper of the well-remembered sound must have reached down to the soul of Rafe Gadbeau in its dark place, for, as though unconsciously, his lips began to form the words of the Act of Contrition.