He put the paper to the light.

Drawing it away, he paused and reflected.
He thought of his stricken mother, and his resolve seemed fixed.

He must burn this witness against his father; he must crush the black shadow of it in his hand.

Could he but crush as easily the black shadow of impending doom! Could he but obliterate as completely the dread reckoning of another world! The paper that hung in his hand had touched the flickering peat.

It was already ignited, but he drew it once more away, and crushed the burning corner to ashes in his palm.
No, it must not be destroyed.