"Here we dismiss his memory forever between us!" solemnly said
Witherspoon, as he read aloud Arthur Ferris' last message. "It is
for her alone to bear him in mind, and to sit in judgment upon him!
What unrighted wrong drove him, in remorse, to his lonely grave!
I shall never ask an answer of her!"
In vain did Atwater follow the enigmatic sentences.
"I leave the fund of one hundred thousand dollars, created for me by my uncle, and the similar sum now due and payable by the Worthington Estate, to Alice Worthington for the foundation of such a charity as she may deem proper. This money is the legacy of a crime and of a wrong!
"Of a crime, though only contemplated, of which I am not innocent at heart, and of a wrong done, of which Miss Worthington alone shall be the judge.
"To you, Witherspoon, I can say that every mad scheme which I framed to reach wealth and power has failed miserably; that I have found my soul's unhappiness in the betrayal of poor Clayton's friendship.
"And yet, as I hope for the forgiveness of an Almighty God, I knew nothing of his murder, either in the deed or its conception. Let me be forgotten by all the world, forgiven by one alone."
The two friends long gazed at each other in a gloomy silence.
"I leave the whole mystery to you, my friend," at last wearily said the lawyer. "I will never try to read between the lines. Take the whole correspondence with you. I have already had a copy made of the Vice-Consul's letter and Ferris' own few sentences. I know that Alice will surely consecrate this vile money to some good purpose, and so I make you my ambassador.
"She will understand why I hope never to hear Ferris' name again, for I know and feel that he was a murderer at heart. Had Clayton missed the snares of the deadly thug who coveted the money which was so criminally exposed, for the golden bribe of the Worthington fortune, Ferris would have sacrificed the only man who stood between him and the millionaire's favor, between him and, perhaps, this orphaned girl's hand.
"And, as sure as the sinner errs, so sure is that old proverb, 'THE
WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH!'