[“‘What shall I do, Aunt Martha?’”]
With her handkerchief she was alternately wiping the perspiration from his forehead and the tears from her own eyes.
“There’s but one thing to do, Dannie. Go to those who have been harmed or prejudiced by what you have done and tell them everything—everything.”
“And the punishment?”
“Take it like a man, whatever it may be. But they will not punish you cruelly; have no fear of that.”
“And then, when it’s known and settled that the D. V. & E. was first in the gap, they’ll build their railroad; they’ll cut a way through the graveyard, and we can’t stop ’em.”
“Don’t try to foresee the evil that may spring from doing what is right. Your duty is to act in the present. God will look out for the future.”
In this wise she counseled him, aided him, soothed him, until at the last, he rose to his feet resolved, no matter what the consequences to himself, to tell the whole story to all those who ought to know it.
“To-morrow morning,” he said, “I will go to Mooreville. I will get there before court opens, and if the case was not decided to-day— Oh, Aunt Martha! suppose they are through with it; suppose it’s all over, and some one else is suffering for what I did! I must go to-night. I must go at once. I mustn’t wait a moment.”
“No, dearie, no. It will be time enough to-morrow morning for you to start. You could accomplish nothing to-night even if you could get there. Go to bed, now, and try to sleep. You will be stronger in the morning.”