“Name of a Woodchuck! Who were you to be saved; that the Good God must come down from His Heaven to break the Seal of the Unopened Book for you!
“You ask for truth! Tiens! I will tell you truth!
“You sat in the place of the prisoner and cried that you were an innocent man. Mon Rafe was the guilty man. The whole world must come forth, the secrets of the grave must come forth to declare you innocent and him guilty! You were innocent! You were persecuted! The earth and the Heaven must come to show that you were innocent and he was guilty! Bah! You were as guilty as he!
“I was there. I saw. Your finger was on the trigger. You only waited for the man to stop 317 moving. Murder was in your heart. Murder was in your soul. Murder was in your finger. But you were innocent and mon Rafe was guilty. By how much?
“By one second. That was the difference between mon Rafe and you. Just that second that he shot before you were ready. That was the difference between you the innocent man and mon Rafe!
“You were guilty. In your heart you were guilty. In your soul you were guilty. M’sieur Cain himself was not more guilty than you!
“You were more guilty than mon Rafe, for he had suffered more from that man. He was hunted. He was desperate, crazy! You were cool. You were ready. Only mon Rafe was a little quicker, because he was desperate. Before the Good God you were more guilty.
“And mon Rafe must be blackened more than the fire had blackened his poor body. And the poor Ruth must break the Holy Secret. And the good M’sieur the Bishop must break his holiest oath. All to make you innocent!
“Bah! Innocent!”
She flung away from him and ran up the hill. Cynthe had not said quite all that she intended to say to this young gentleman. But then, also, she had said a good deal more than she had intended to say. So it was about even. She had 318 said enough. And it would do him no harm. She had felt that she owed mon Rafe a little plain speaking. She was much relieved.