Rotha felt that the moment had at length arrived. She must speak now
or never. The one hope for two innocent men who were to die as soon as
the world woke again to daylight lay in this moment.
"Mr. Garth," she began falteringly, "if a sin lies heavy on your soul,
it is better to tell God of it and cast yourself on the mercy of our
Heavenly Father."
Gathering strength, the girl continued: "And if it is a dark secret
that touches others than yourself--if others may suffer, or are
suffering, from it even now--if this is so, I pray of you, as you hope
for that Divine mercy, confess it now, confess it before it is too
late--fling it forth from your stifled heart--do not bury its dead
body there, and leave it to be revealed only at that judgment when
every human deed, be it never so secret, shall be stripped naked
before the Lord, that retribution may be measured out for ever and
ever."
Rotha had risen to her feet, and was leaning over the bed with one
hand in an attitude of acutest pain, convulsively clutching the hand
of the blacksmith.
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