"Papa and mamma, and all of us that haven't heard it, would like so much to hear it, if it won't tire you to talk so long." "It is not a long story; and as my lungs are sound, I do not think it will fatigue me, if you will all come near enough to hear me in my ordinary tone of voice." They drew around him, protesting against his making the effort, unless fully equal to it; as another time would do quite as well.
"Thank you all," he said; "but I feel able for the task, and shall enjoy gratifying my nieces and nephews, as well as the older people." He then proceeded with his narrative; all listening with deep interest.
Among other incidents connected with his prison life, he told of his interview with Jackson, and the poor wretch's death that same night.
Elsie shuddered and turned pale, yet breathed a sigh of relief as she laid her hand in that of her husband, and turned a loving, grateful look upon her father, to meet his eyes fixed upon her with an expression of deep thankfulness, mingled with the sadness and awe inspired by the news of the miscreant's terrible end.
Harold spent the day at his brother's, and availed himself of an opportunity, which offered that afternoon, to have a little private talk with Elsie, in which he delivered Walter's packet, telling her how it came into his hands.
"Dear, dear Walter," she said, weeping, "I have so wanted to know the particulars of his death, and am so thankful to hear that he was a Christian." "His friend told me he was instantly killed, so was spared much suffering." "I am thankful for that.

I will open this now; you will like to see the contents." They were a letter from Walter to her, and two photographs--both excellent and striking likenesses; one of her in her bridal robes, the other of himself in his military dress.
The first Elsie threw carelessly aside, as of little worth; the other she held long in her hands; gazing intently upon it, again and again wiping away the fast-falling tears.
"It is his own noble, handsome face," she murmured.

"Oh, to think I shall not see it again in this world! How good of him to hive it taken for me!" and again she gazed and wept.
Turning to her companion she was startled by the expression of mingled love and anguish in his eyes, which were intently fixed upon the other photograph; he having taken it up as she threw it aside.
"Oh Harold!" she moaned, in low, agitated tones.
He sighed deeply, but his brow cleared, and a look of peace and resignation stole over his face as he turned his eyes on her.
"I think there is no sin in the love I bear you now, Elsie," he said; "I rejoice in your happiness and am willing to see you in the possession of another; more than willing, since I must so soon pass away.

But it was not always so; my love and grief were hard to conquer, and this--bringing you before me just as you were that night that gave you to another and made my love a sin--brought back for a moment the anguish that wrung my heart at the sight." "You _were_ there, then ?" "Yes; just for a few moments.

I found I must look upon the scene, though it broke my heart.