this crisis with fiery clearness. He seemed to live in an instant whole years in every detail of that closeness of personal life that makes marriage a part of every stroke of the heart.
At last he set his lips firmly and said,
"Yes, damn him, I will kill him as I would a snake!"
He sat down and wrote his resignation as pastor of the church, left it on his desk, and strode hurriedly from the study leaving his door open. He purchased a revolver and a box of cartridges and walked straight to McLeod's office.
The speaking was over, and McLeod was alone writing letters. He looked up with scant politeness as the Preacher entered and motioned him to a seat.
Instead of seating himself, he closed the door, and standing erect in front of it, said,
"Allan McLeod, you are the author of an infamous slander reflecting on the honour of my wife!"
"Indeed!" McLeod sneered, wheeling in his chair.
"I always knew that you were a moral leper"—
"Of course, Doctor, of course, but don't get excited," laughed McLeod enjoying the marks of anguish on his face.
"But that your lecherous body should dream of invading the sanctity of my home, and your tongue attempt to smirch its honour, was beyond my wildest dream of your effrontery. How dare you?"—
"Dare? Dare, Preacher?" interrupted McLeod still sneering. "Why, by 'The Higher Law,' of course. You have been teaching all your life that there are higher laws than paper-made statutes. You have trained this county in crime under this beautiful ideal. Surely I may follow the teachings of a master in Israel?"
"What do you mean, you red-headed devil?"
"Softly, Preacher," smiled McLeod. "Simply this.
