a step forwards to him. "Will you not help to clear your conscience by
doing this thing? You don't want to try and spite the world by not doing
it. You can make a lot of your life yet, if you are set free. Give
yourself, and give the world a chance. You haven't used it right. Try
again."

Grassette imagined that the Governor did not remember who Bignold was,
and that this was an appeal against his despair, and against revenging
himself on the community which had applauded his sentence. If he went
to the Gulch, no one would know or could suspect the true situation,
everyone would be unprepared for that moment when Bignold and he would
face each other--and all that would happen then.

Where was Marcile? Only Bignold knew. Alive or dead? Only Bignold
knew.

"Bien, I will do it, m'sieu'," he said to the Governor. "I am to go
alone--eh?"

The Sheriff shook his head. "No, two warders will go with you--and
myself."

A strange look passed over Grassette's face. He seemed to hesitate for
a moment, then he said again: "Bon, I will go."

"Then there is, of course, the doctor," said the Sheriff.

"Bon," said Grassette. "What time is it?" "Twelve o'clock," answered
the Sheriff, and made a motion to the warder to open the door of the
cell.