For a quarter of an hour the Governor sat and talked with Lucy, waiting the arrival of Gordon and Ruth. The warden arranged that they should meet in the adjoining room alone.

No eye save God’s saw their meeting. Those who waited only heard through the heavy curtains half articulate cries like the soft crooning of a mother over her babe.

When they entered the room and Lucy had clung passionately for a moment to the neck of the tall, gaunt figure, the Governor took his hand.

“I have accepted Ruth’s word and yours for the truth in this case, Frank Gordon. I have grown to know that she is the soul of truth. I heard you preach once from the text, ‘He saved others, himself he could not save.’ I did not know then what you were talking about. I know now—”

“Oh, Morris,” Ruth broke in, “we will always love you as the nearest and dearest friend on earth.”

“As for you, Frank Gordon,” he went on. “I could no longer hate you if I tried. In the presence of a love so pure, so divine as that which hallows your life, I uncover my head. I am on holy ground—I am in the presence of the living God.”

He turned away, and Ruth broke into a sob, while the man by her side hung his head and sat down as though too weak to stand.

The Governor lifted Gordon from the seat, seized Ruth’s hand and placed it in his.

“I know your heart’s desire, Ruth,” he said, slowly, “I have an officer of the law here to perform a marriage ceremony. Holding your first m............