Sanders' Union Fourth Reader / Embracing a Full Exposition of the Principles of Rhetorical Reading; with Numerous Exercises for Practice, Both in Prose and Poetry, Various in Style, and Carefully Adapted to the Purposes of Teaching in Schools of Every Grade

by Charles W. Sanders

7. Then the Continental, with his muscular strength gathered for the effort, shook the murderer once more over the abyss, and then hissed this bitter sneer between his teeth,—"My brother had a wife and two children. The morning after the night of Pa o' li, that wife was a widow,—those children were orphans! Would not you like to go and beg your life of that widow and her children?"

8. The proposal, made by the Continental in the mere mockery of hate, was taken in serious earnest by the horror-stricken Tory. He begged to be taken to the widow and her children, to have the pitiful privilege of begging his life. After a moment's serious thought, the patriot soldier consented. He bound the Tory's arms yet tighter, placed him on the rock again, and then led him up the woods. A quiet cottage, imbosomed among the trees, broke on their eyes.

9. They entered that cottage. There, beside the desolate hearth-stone, sat the widow and her children. She was a matronly woman of about thirty years, with a face faded by care, a deep, dark eye, and long, disheveled hair about her shoulder. On one side was a dark-haired boy, of some six years; on the other, a little girl, one year younger, with light hair and blue eyes. The Bible, an old, venerable volume, lay open on that mother's lap.

10. And then that pale-faced Tory flung himself on his knees, confessed that he had butchered her husband on the night of Pa o'li, but begged his life at her hands! "Spare me, for the sake of my wife—my child!" He had expected that his pitiful moan would touch the widow's heart; but not one relenting gleam softened her pale face.

11. "The Lord shall judge between us!" she said in a cold, icy tone, that froze the murderer's heart. "Look! The Bible lies open before me. I will close that volume, and then this boy shall open it, and place his finger at random upon a line, and by that line you shall live or die!" This was a strange proposal, made in full faith of a wild and dark superstition of the olden time. For a moment, the Tory, kneeling there, livid as ashes, was wrapt in thought. Then, in a faltering voice, he signified his consent.

12. Raising her dark eyes to heaven, the mother prayed the Great Father to direct the finger of her son. She closed the book, and handed it to that boy, whose young cheek reddened with loathing as he gazed upon his father's murderer. He took the Bible, opened its holy pages at random, and placed his fingers upon a verse.

13. Then there was a silence. That Continental soldier, who had sworn to avenge his brother's death, stood there with dilating eyes and parted lips. Then the culprit, kneeling on the floor, with a face like discolored clay, felt his heart leap to his throat. Then, in a clear, bold voice, the widow read this line from the Old Testament. It was short, yet terrible: "That man shall die!"

14. Look! The brother springs forward to plunge a knife into the murderer's heart; but the Tory, pinioned as he is, begs that one more trial may be made by the little girl,—that child of five years, with golden hair and laughing eyes. The widow consents. There is an awful pause. With a smile in her eye, without knowing what she does, the little girl opens the Bible,—she turns her laughing face away,—she places her fingers upon the page.

15. That awful silence grows deeper. The deep-drawn breath of the brother, and the broken gasps of the murderer, alone disturb the stillness. The widow and dark-eyed boy are breathless. That little girl, unconscious as she was, caught a feeling of awe from the countenances around her, and stood breathless, her face turned aside, and her tiny fingers resting on that line of life or death. At last, gathering courage, the widow bent her eyes on the page, and read. It was a line from the New Testament: "LOVE YOUR ENEMIES." Ah! that moment was sublime!

16. Oh, awful Book of God! in whose dread pages we see Job talking face to face with Jehovah, or Jesus waiting by Samaria's well, or wandering by the waves of dark Galilee! Oh, awful Book! shining to-night, as I speak, the light of that widow's home,—the glory of the mechanic's shop,—shining where the world comes not, to look on the last night of the convict in his cell, lightening the way to God, even over that dread gibbet!