Frale did not move or speak, and the bishop felt baffled. What was going on under that passive mask he dared not think. To talk seemed futile, like hammering upon a flint wall; but hammer he must, and again he tried.

“You have taken a man’s life; do you know what that means?”

“Hangin’, I reckon.”

“If it were only to hang, boy, it might be better for Cassandra. Think about it. If I help you, and shield you here, what are you going to do? What do you care most for in all this world? You who can kill a man and then not repent.”

“He hadn’t ought to have riled me like he done; I — keer fer her.”

“More than for Frale Farwell?”