A wind seemed to blow his sleeve off his arm, and he replied to it, and saw Trampas pitch forward. He saw Trampas raise his arm from the ground and fall again, and lie there this time, still. A little smoke was rising from the pistol on the ground, and he looked at his own, and saw the smoke flowing upward out of it.

“I expect that’s all,” he said aloud.

But as he came nearer Trampas, he covered him with his weapon. He stopped a moment, seeing the hand on the ground move. Two fingers twitched, and then ceased; for it was all. The Virginian stood looking down at Trampas.

“Both of mine hit,” he said, once more aloud “ His must have gone mighty close to my arm. I told her it would not be me.”

He had scarcely noticed that he was being surrounded and congratulated. His hand was being shaken, and he saw it was Scipio in tears. Scipio’s joy made his heart like lead within him. He was near telling his friend everything, but he did not.

“If anybody wants me about this,” he said, “I will be at the hotel.”

“Who’ll want you?” said Scipio. “Three of us saw his gun out.” And he vented his admiration. “You were that cool! That quick!”

“I’ll see you boys again,” said the Virginian, heavily; and he walked away.

Scipio looked after him, astonished. “Yu’ might suppose he was in poor luck,” he said to McLean.

The Virginian walked to the hotel, and stood on the threshold of his sweetheart’s room. She had heard his step, and was upon her feet. Her lips were parted, and her eyes fixed on him, nor did she move, or speak.

“Yu’ have to know it,” said he. “I have killed Trampas.”

“Oh, thank God!” she said; and he found her in his arms. Long they embraced without speaking, and what they whispered then with their kisses, matters not.

Thus did her New England conscience battle to the end, and, in the end, capitulate to love. And the next day, with the bishop’s blessing, and Mrs. Taylor’s broadest smile, and the ring on her finger, the Virginian departed with his bride into the mountains.