“Most assuredly he will; and now nothing remains for you but to prepare to meet your doom like a true man.  You are not the first who has suffered in like manner in a cause which history will ever associate with your name.  The tyrant who prevails over you, will not triumph for long.  Ignominious will be the atonement that he must pay.  But you have to show that for the sacred cause of loyalty you know how to die.  You have made your peace with God, and there is nought then that you have to fear.  You sorrow at going alone, leaving all the world after you, but we go hence too, in a little; and every hour the clock tells, yields a thousand souls to eternity.”

“Ah, my friends, this is all true, but I am young, and I had cherished one very sweet hope.”

“This has been the fate of tens of thousands.”

“I should not have shrunk from death six months ago, had he set me up as a target for his half-breed murderers.  I should have uttered no word of repining, but it is different now:  O God, it is very different.”

All hung down their heads.  They were vainly trying to hide their tears.

“And even for myself, under the new condition which has arisen, I would not care.  It is because of her—­because of my pure, beautiful love, my Marie, whom this fiend has so persecuted, that I cannot look upon my doom with calmness.  I had thought that there was such a happy future in store for us, for her and me, when this tumult was ended!” Then he took paper and pen and wrote a letter, which, when he had sealed it, he gave into the hands of the clergyman.

“That address must be known only to one,” he said.  “It is not safe to post the letter anywhere in Canada; but, as a dying request, I ask that you have it put in the post at Pembina.”

“I shall with my own hand deliver it.  I shall set out to-morrow.”

“May God, sir, send you comfort in your affliction.  Pray remain as long as you can with my darling;—­tell her, for it will help her better to bear the blow, that I was cheerful, and that I said I had no fear but that she and I would meet it heaven, and that when I went there I would pray to my God in her behalf every day.  She has no token of mine.  Take this ring and give it to her, and my scarf-pin, which in her sweet, childish fancy she used so to admire.  Tell her that I died—­I have told her in my letter—­but repeat it to her, with my heart full, O so full! of love for her.”

There was now a rude bustling at the door; the rusty key was plied, and with a harsh scream the bolt flew back.  Then the evil-looking Luc entered, followed by five or six others, all of whom were partially intoxicated.

“Your hour has come, young man,” he said, in a brutal voice.  “Let us be going.”

“My God, this is a cold-blooded murder,” poor Scott said, turning to Mr. Donald A. Smith and the Rev. Mr. Young.  Then he bade good-bye to the visitors and to his fellow prisoners, and walked forth with the guard closely accompanied by Mr. Young.  Before they got outside the prison door the miscreant leader said,