great face, bristling with a yellow stubble of beard, appeared in the
door. It belonged to the sheriff, Jonas Hapgood, who had just
returned from taking Burr to New Salem. Madelon cast a desperate
glance around at them. "Lot Gordon," she cried out, "tell them--tell
them I was the one who stabbed you, and set Burr free!"

There was a chuckle from Jonas Hapgood in the door. "Likely story,"
he muttered to Margaret Bean's husband, and the old man nodded
wisely.

"Tell them!" commanded Madelon. She reached out a hand as if she
would shake Lot Gordon into obedience, wounded unto death although he
was, but Lot only smiled up in her face.

Then David Hautville bent his stern face down to the sick man's. "Lot
Gordon, tell the truth before God, daughter of mine or no daughter of
mine," said he, in his deep voice. Lot only followed Madelon with his
longing, smiling eyes.

"Speak, Lot Gordon!"

The wounded man turned his eyes on David and made a feeble motion,
scarcely more than a quiver of his hand, which seemed to express
negation.

"Can't you speak?"

Again Lot made that faint signal.

"He ain't spoke sence they brought him home," said Margaret